Crossed Swords
by Daedalic
Summary: "I am glad to announce the betrothal between my daughter and Prince Jonathon Herondale," King Valentine announced. Clary almost screamed. Jace. Jace the most obnoxious man she had ever met. Jace the pompous idiot. Jace the man she beat up. Jace the arrogant. Jace...her husband.
1. Chess

_**New story, yay! **_

_**The picture **__**was drawn by my lovely friend bluelettice (she has a deviantart account so if you could check out her stuff that would be great!) **_

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><p>The fire crackled in the hearth, illuminating the two men hunched over the board as they continued their long and arduous game. The white haired man was dressed regally, on his head was a crown-the stars adorning it glinting gloatingly at the man opposite. The king the studied the board and moved another pawn forward. His opponent calculated his options and found himself running a little short. He glanced up nervously as he moved his queen, very aware of the display of his captured chess pieces, situated at the elbow of the very important man in front of him.<p>

"Aldertree, tell me, how have things been?" The white haired man asked, speaking very softly. If Aldertree had not been playing close attention, he would perhaps have not even heard it.

"Oh, well-th-things have been running…fairly smoothly since…" He stammered, flustered by the question. He knew that any wrong move, very much like this game of chess, could see him off the board completely.

"Since? Since what, Aldertree?" The man questioned, not breaking eye contact with Aldertree, as he moved his knight closer. The firelight danced in his eyes, giving him an even harsher gaze.

"Surely you are aware of the incident with the Downworlders!" Aldertree exclaimed, wiping his sweaty brow and taking a sip of the glass of wine in front of him in an attempt to calm his nerves.

"Of course." The man replied coolly, signalling that it was Aldertree's turn. "But, I would like to know whose fault it was."

"Well, i-it was Wayland as we all know and his son of course," Aldertree, replied, stating the obvious.

"I disagree," The interrogator announced, smiling coldly as he took yet another opposing chess piece.

"But surely, my liege, it is obvious!"

"Let me make this simple for you Aldertree" Mr. Morgenstern said, voice still very calm. He took a captured pawn and laid it out in front of Aldertree. "Wayland and his son were like the pawns, but who controls the pawns?" He questioned, leaning dangerously close to Aldertree, who moved back instinctively.

"Y-you sire,"

Morgenstern chuckled, but it sounded rather empty to Aldertee's ears.

"You are right of course, I do control the board and therefore control the pawns." He stated and then took a knight and held it up, placing it behind the pawn on the board.

"Let us pretend that the pawn is controlled by the knight." He then placed a castle behind that. "And the castle controls the knight, but who can you guess, is the Castle?"

Aldertree fought long and hard to come up with a coherent answer, downing the last dregs of the wine in the process. The king smiled as he noticed this, his eyes gleaming with malice.

"You, Aldertree, you are the castle. And if the castle had controlled the knight and the knight had controlled the pawn….Then, well, it would not have happened, would it?"

Aldertree chose not to answer.

"Michael has been taken care of, as has the knight, but what of the castle?"

Aldertree was once again mute.

"My, my we cannot have such corruption going without punishment, can we, Aldertree?"

Aldertree was very obviously distressed, this was not going to plan.

"Your turn," The King stated coldly, sitting back in his chair, surprising Aldertree. But when he glanced down at the board, he could only make one move.

"Checkmate." Morgenstern announced, knocking over the king daintily, his eyes full of smug superiority. The sound resonated in Aldertree's ears like the axe on a chopping block. He caught the cold glare from his superior and knew what it meant.

"NO! No, Valentine, please I'm begging you!" He begged, which only angered King Morgenstern even more. Begging was for pathetic men.

"There is nothing more that can be done," He answered coolly, no sympathy evident in his placid voice.

The door opened and a few men clad in black emerged.

"No! No! _Please! _I have information!"

"Really?" Valentine asked, clearly disinterested.

"Yes! Yes! There was this man-"

"Fascinating." The king drawled in reply, clearly disinterested.

"No, no. You have to believe me, it was Lucian Graymark I swear it was him!"

"For starters Lucian is not a _man_," Valentine snarled.

"No, no. S-sire. Th-the attack. I-it was l-l-led by-y Lucian. The downworlders-" he coughed. ",d-d-angg-erous-" He stammered uncontrollably; the words caught in his throat. His hands shook as he was caught up in a seizure, his throat closed up, choking him. Valentine smiled mirthlessly, swishing his unused cup of wine, before pouring it out gloatingly onto the carpet. Aldertree registered his mistake before it was too late and the light had left his eyes. Valentine sighed and gestured for his idiot associates Pangborn and Blackwell to remove the dead body. They did so without question.

He sat at the table, studying the fire, pondering upon the last piece of information. The Downworlders were getting stronger, more rebellious, although of course they were no match for him and his son… He could not believe Aldertreee was telling the truth about his old parabatai he decided, his fingers tracing the faded parabatai rune. No. Lucian killed himself when he was given the chance…But….if there was a chance he was alive...He twirled the queen around in his fingers until he set it down and stared at the board in front of him, before moving the pieces around until he had made up his mind. He picked up his quill, dipped it in ink and started his letter to Stephen Herondale. The army of chess pieces glinted in the firelight as they stood to attention in front of their King.


	2. Beaten

_**Thank you for the follows, favourites and reviews!**_

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><p>She stole away like a thief in the night, her dark cloak billowing about her as she creptinto the stables where her horse was awaiting her. She threw the stable boy a wink as she led Wayfarer out of his stall and down out of the stable into the courtyard. He followed his friend dutifully.<p>

"Thanks, Simon," she acknowledged him, nimbly mounting the horse, grateful that her attire allowed for more movement. Tunics, leather boots and trousers were far more practical than the heavy dresses required of her daily. Riding a horse in a dress was no mean feat. He beamed back up at her.

"Stay safe, princess," he cautioned, teasingly. She scoffed, rather inappropriate for a lady of royal calibre. Not that neither her nor Simon cared for such propriety.

"You know me," she called back, setting off in a trot out of the stable.

"That's an 'I might be attacked by a horde of demons on the way, or kidnapped by a vile pillock, but whatever I'm a Shadowhunter with a big sword'" he corrected, rolling his eyes up at her as he walked alongside her to the courtyard gates. Clary need only to ask and the guards would open the gates for her - that is of course if the King had not instructed the guards otherwise (as was awfully common). Once the gates were open he saw her eyes light up as she gazed upon the village bellow, which was bathed in the light of the festival, great bonfires illuminating the night sky.

"Say hello to your friend for me," Simon asked her, and she smiled.

"Her name is Isabelle, Simon, and don't pretend you don't know that," she teased. "I've seen the way you look at her."

"Alright, fine, say hello to Isabelle for me."

"I'll tell her you send your love," she agreed and fled away before he could complain. Wayfarer sped towards the village, reaching speeds higher than any mundane horse, the gift of the angel flowing through his veins. She smiled genuinely as the wind whipped through her hair, the adrenalin of such speeds pumping through her, awaking her Nephilim instincts. She reigned him in when she was closer to the village, slowing to etch in a disguise rune on her wrist. It would not do to have the townsfolk aware of her presence, not that she minded, but the King would surely hear of it and have her head. If she was lucky.

She dismounted and led Wayfarer into the town by the reigns. Townsfolk greeted her as she travelled along with the same respect as if she were one of their own - for she was unrecognisable as the princess they all knew. She did not even carry the marks of nobility, as did the others who flaunted the runes which only they had been blessed with. Weaving her way through the crowded town, she basked in light and jovial mood that always accompanied the town and was amplified tenfold by the Fall Festival celebrations. Decorated with thousands of lanterns, the town was transformed into a sight of humble splendour, exciting everyone and leaving no townsman untouched by the community spirit. Music filled the air as children and adults alike danced in the pathways, on the hills, in the town square, around the massive bonfire and even in at the market place which was still bustling with business at this late hour. Autumn colours could be found in every corner: gold, magenta, brown and orange all adorned the town.

The princess sighed, home at last. Passing a nearby inn, she tossed the stable hands a few coins and left Wayfarer with them as she journeyed toward the town centre. She planned to stay for a while, maybe join in with the dancing and then seek out Isabelle. Because the Fall Festival was a joyous, busy event, it also attracted all sorts of demons and it was her duty to protect the town in favour of entertainment. Although, once she had been pulled into the circles of dancers, it proved impossible to leave. Besides, it was her last night of freedom before she would be shut up in the castle for the royal version of Fall Festival. Which, sadly, mostly involved dreary feasts and drunken men, not to mention that all the other kingdom's monarchs were always invited. As a result, it became impossible to have any time alone. She shrugged off the gloomy thoughts for now, though, and smiled at the man who had just held out his hand to her. The music was all around, the dance impossible to break.

"Come on, Clary," someone urged her, dragging her back out of the circle. She whirled around to come face to face with Isabelle, who was looking very intimidating in her tough fighting gear accompanied with her steely expression.

"Sorry, Izzy. I was just-" she apologised.

"Enjoying yourself, I know, but I just saw a demon steal a young girl away," she informed her, pointing down a darkened pathway behind a tavern. She nodded and followed Izzy, hand on the hilt of her seraph blade. The stench hit them as soon as they came to the entrance of the alley, the pungent odour of an eidolon demon alerting the princess to the danger at hand as she drew her dagger. It was dark and they had to squint to see the two figures in the middle. A feminine voice cried out and both Shadowhunters became rigid.

"I'm going in," Clary whispered, moving forward, but Isabelle caught her arm.

"Clary. We need to think rationally, have the element of surprise."

"But, there's a girl down there-" she protested, wrenching her arm out of her grip and striding towards the two, hidden under the cloak of darkness.

"Get off me!" The woman protested, feebly pushing back against the stronger demon.

"I don't think so…" it hissed, pressing her further back against the cobblestone house.

"I think you heard her," Clary spoke up, seraph blade poised in front of her. The demon laughed, turning to face her.

"And what are you going to do about it?" he hissed patronisingly, the glamour shimmering in front of him. Clary saw glimpses of horns and tails.

"_Michael,_" she whispered, and the seraph blade lit up with heavenly fire as she lunged for the demon. He danced out of her reach, letting the girl he held fall to turn his full attention on her. As soon as she was released the young girl fled, her footsteps echoing in her wake.

"Shadowhunter," the eidolon hissed, realisation dawning on its now vaguely humanoid face, its true being flickering underneath like a candle flame. It attacked her left, grazing her side with its talon. She winced as she felt it slice through the thin material of her tunic. Wasting no time, she struck back with her blade, aiming for where she supposed its heart was. It moved faster, causing her to stumble and merely wound it. While it was still off guard she lunged forward and hacked at its head, swinging out of the way of an oncoming talon. The blade dug into the foul creatures' neck joint but the creature twisted, wrenching the blade out of her hand. It rounded on her, its sharp, long talons aimed towards her. It swung and she ducked, rolling to the side. The ichor was dripping down its neck, splattering onto the cobblestones. She scrambled to her feet, hand reaching for her dagger. Suddenly it toppled forward, a blade stabbed clean through its disfigured chest. It folded in on itself, spluttering demon ichor in its wake onto Clary below, who hissed as it burned into her skin. She looked up, out of breath, to see Isabelle cleaning her blade with disgust before sheathing it. Demon hunting was no glamourous job. She held her hand out to Clary with a smile and Clary accepted it gratefully, heaving herself up onto her shaking legs. What was left of the adrenaline now dissipating, leaving only tiredness and relief.

"You look awful," Izzy commented, gesturing to Clary's torn clothes, the acidic demon ichor eating away at the thin material.

"Yes, perhaps in hindsight, proper gear would have been better," she agreed, whipping out her stele to draw an iratze to soothe her injured skin. "Do you need an iratze?"

"No I'm fine. I'm sorry it took me so long, but the girl was in absolute hysterics and it took a while to get away," Izzy apologised.

"No worries," Clary forgave her, taking off down the alleyway towards her favourite inn, in need of a good drink or two. "I could've handled it myself."

"Whatever you say, my lady," Isabelle quipped back, giving her a low, mocking curtsy. Clary merely laughed and rolled her eyes. They walked in comfortable silence, Clary finding solace in the generally uplifting atmosphere. Izzy broke it first.

"I've been thinking," she said.

"Really? That's new," Clary jibed, causing her friend to hit her hard on the shoulder. "Ow," she muttered under her breath, much to Izzy's delight.

"But seriously, what's on your mind?" she enquired.

"Well, it's just that, well- this whole business with shadow hunting-"

"You're not looking to quit?" Clary questioned, astonished.

"No, no. Nothing like that. Well, at least not until you're on the throne,"

"Like that'll ever happen,"

"Well, we can all hope…" Izzy sighed thoughtfully, but then snapped back. "I mean to say that I'm been thinking about how impossible it is that I can do it. I can see demons, I can take runes. Surely that means I must be a Nephilim. I must be half angel. Alec and Max too."

"I have entertained that thought myself," Clary agreed. "It seems highly likely... although there have been stories of mundanes with the Sight. You could just be a rare enigma…?" She faltered, seeing Izzy's doubtful face. "Okay then, let's say you are… well are you sure you _are _aware of what it means to be a Nephilim?"

"Of course. Everyone knows, it's not like they don't flaunt their power."

"Would you be willing to accept it? I've lived my whole life cooped up in a castle; I've had so much expected of me. I do not wish that kind of life upon you."

"I don't know..." Izzy said. "It would mean that we could find out who our parents are. Be a proper family."

"You are a proper family. Much more proper than _my _family at least."

"That's different," Izzy argued.

"How so? If you truly are royalty, than my life would become yours too."

"I suppose so," Izzy sighed, defeated. "But, but- it would also mean that Max would get the help. I'm sure they could afford a warlock and he would no longer be so ill-"

"I thought he had gotten better?"

"Well he had, but I fear it won't last very long- he's still got a nasty fever. I'm only letting him out today because I couldn't leave him out of the fun,"

Clary nodded.

"Well, I understand your troubles, Isabelle. I'm doing whatever I can to help; I just don't think this is the best way to solve them."

"Of course, you're right."

"But I think Magnus Bane is paying a visit to my mother. I will do my best to persuade him to see to Max."

"Thank you, it means so much to us."

"He's my little brother too and I would hate for his condition to get any worse," she said, just as they reached the entrance to the tavern. The raucous noise could've been heard from miles away. Clary shot Izzy a reassuring smile and entered the inn.

Inside the noise was even louder; festive and merry, yes, but _loud. _There were even more dancers swinging each other around in the space left after almost all the tables and chairs had been moved out of the way. She could see one of her friends Jem, who was also the joint owner of the Carstairs Inn, entertaining them on his fiddle. Knowing her friend, Izzy dragged Clary by the arm before she could join in the fun towards the bar. Tessa, the bar maid, beamed at them when they came up to order, despite having full hands.

"What can I get you two today?" she asked cheerfully.

"Ale, I think," Izzy answered, eyebrows raised to Clary in question. She nodded.

"That would be great. Thanks, Tess," she agreed. Tessa hurriedly got their drinks made on the counter for them in the hopes of a little respite.

"My, my Clary," she said, eyes raking over my state of clothing, "you really must be more careful."

Clary rolled her eyes.

"I'm fine. It's just a bit of blood, is all," she shrugged. "Besides, I'm a Shadowhunter," she muttered. Tessa sighed.

"And a very good one at that. The kingdom would be a far better place if all of 'em were as good as you,"

"They're all very skilled," Clary amended. "It's where their hearts lie that is the real problem."

"The King needs to go and I know just who I want to replace him," she conspired, winking at the princess. Yes, she was one of the few who would recognise the girl before her, even if her red hair and green eyes were disguised. She wasn't going to tell anyone though; she herself had her own secrets.

"So how've Jem and the kids been doing?" Izzy asked.

"Great actually. See, Matt is already helping out," she said, pointing to where her eldest was serving them drinks. "Elijah too, he's on the lute. Takes after his dad in that respect," she smiled, observing them with pride.

"That's great-" Clary started but was interrupted by someone who had taken a seat next to her.

"Where can I get a drink around here?" he asked loud and rather rudely. Tessa snapped to attention, turning to the man at the same time as Clary did. There were, in fact, two of them, both very obviously royal. You could see their runes like the light of day, and their very fine clothes too.

"How may I help you?" Tessa asked politely. The darker haired of the two of them smirked.

"I know a _lot_ of things you'd be good for, darling," he quipped, eyeing her. Clary could already feel her blood boiling. She turned back to Izzy but she was already gone, stuck in the middle of the dancing circle. Clary rolled her eyes and stared at her drink instead, attempting to not start a fight.

"Hurry up, love," the man hollered as Tessa busied herself with their orders. Clary clenched her fist around her mug. When Tessa set the drink down in front of him, he grabbed her hand, before kissing it.

She snapped.

"Alright, whey face, she's married. Leave her alone," she rounded on him, snarl on her lips. He raised an eyebrow, turning to her fully. He was rather attractive, what with his blue eyes and black hair that curled at the nape of his neck. It didn't faze her though. She was far too angry.

"Calm down, _girl._ I was just ordering a drink." His voice was thick with the posher royal accent. When Clary next spoke she made a conscious effort to adopt the town accent.

"Do you always harass the bar maid when doing so?" she challenged.

"Only if she is pleasing to the eye, such as her," he said, gesturing to Tessa, who was looking flustered, and who kept shooting furtive glances their way as she worked.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Does the word 'married' mean nothing to you?"

He shrugged, although his eyes screamed challenging arrogance.

"She didn't exactly tell me that."

"Did the ring on the hand you so flirtatious kissed not give you a clue?" she hounded him, not letting this arrogant man walk over her friends. He merely smirked.

"That _thing _was a ring? The angel only knows what poor lives this unfortunates must live," he commented, nastily. Clary was really getting fired up now.

"Listen here, you-" she almost yelled, jabbing a finger at him. He merely laughed.

"Cute," he said patronisingly and turned to his partner, who was looking on, amused. "See this cousin? Are you witnessing the same thing? A _mundane_ _girl_ so brave as to speak to us?" he drawled to the other one who was equally as stunning. He laughed.

"What makes _yo_u so special?" she seethed.

"Little girl, I would advise you to get up and leave now," the blonde said, a hint of threat in his sugar coated voice.

"I have as much right to be here as your royal asses do."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth she knew she had perhaps gone too far. Both their faces turned to steel.

"I am Prince Jonathon Christopher Herondale of England, and this is my advisor William Herondale. I strongly suggest you leave our presence."

"Titles mean nothing to me."

The Prince of England raised an eyebrow.

"They should, girl. You are going to get into a lot of trouble carrying on the way you are."

Clary rolled her eyes, infuriating them. She could tell she was outstaying her welcome but was comfortable to do just that.

"She looks like trouble anyway. See the state of her men's clothes," his advisor commented, eyeing her.

"Did you run into a demon little girl? Is that why you're so bitter? Do you need a few brave Shadowhunters to kiss your wounds?" the prince patronised her.

"I am just as good a fighter as any of you," she said confidently, taking a long swig of her drink.

"You really should not have said that," his advisor said as Prince Jonathon grabbed the mug away from her, mid drink.

"Alright then, mundie. Fight me," he challenged her, on his feet now. Aggression clear on every line of his face.

"Okay then," she agreed to both their immense surprise, "we'll do it outside in the mud ring. Swords belonging to this inn only."

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><p>"You are an idiot," Isabelle chastised her matter-of-factly as she passed her the simple long sword. Clary smiled devilishly and twirled it, feeling its weight. It was pretty decent. "Honestly, what on earth were you thinking?" Izzy continued. "You know he's <em>royal<em>. He could have you executed. Not to mention he's probably here for the feasts the King holds! He'll be _staying_ with you. You'll have to see him every day!"

"I didn't think of that."

"Too right you didn't-"

"It'll be very amusing to watch him with the knowledge that I defeated him," she clarified, smirking. She glanced at where his advisor was giving him a similar pep talk.

"And what if you lose?"

"I won't. If I can beat Jonathon, I can beat him."

"You can _sometimes _beat Jonathon. I even had to save you from that demon!"

"Demons are different. This is sparring. He will be as predictable as they all are. His weakness is his blatant arrogance."

"Fine, fine," Isabelle said, giving up. "Just don't blame me when this completely backfires."  
>"If it does I'll disappear. He won't see <em>this <em>version of me again." she said with a wink. "He can look all he likes, I'll just use another rune."

The crowd that had gathered to view the entertainment was getting restless.

"Good luck," Izzy said, clapping her friend on the back before hopping over the fence. Upon seeing her brother Alec's face in the crowd, she made her way over to him, standing beside him as she watched Clary turn to face her opponent. The attractive prince almost exuded cockiness and arrogance as he sized her up. She was a great deal shorter than he.

"This wasn't one of her brightest ideas was it?" Alec commented, watching as they began circling.

"No, it wasn't," Isabelle agreed.

"Come on then, fight me!" Clary antagonised him, "or are you too scared because I'm a _girl_?"

He raised an eyebrow. Neither of them broke eye contact.

"Don't worry, little mundane, I'll go easy on you," he said and swung his sword menacingly. She danced out of his reach.

"Afraid you'll lose your reputation?" she taunted, he snarled slightly.  
>"Afraid to lose yours?"<p>

"Nothing to lose," she said and launched at him, swinging her sword in a wide arc. He met it with his with a grunt, knocking hers out of the way before stabbing at her. She swung to the side, using his unbalance to kick at his ankles, causing him to stumble forward. He recovered quickly and faced her again, wasting no time in delivering a succession of quick attacks. She blocked each blow, but found herself being driven back against the fence. She hit back, swiftly driving him back as she aimed at his chest and arms. She managed to slice through his shirt as both of them were unarmoured. His eyes flashed and he picked up the pace of the fight, realising he had a chance of losing. She had to heighten her attention, noticing that his eyes flickered to right before he attacked. He swung at her legs and she nimbly hopped over the swinging sword. She found his strength rune and slashed at it. She saw his expression change immediately.

"That was the wrong move," he said and barrelled into her. She dove out of the way, rolling to the side before launching straight up again. The next attacks that rained down where swift, accurate and precise. She soon began to see that his movements were very similar to her brother's and defended accordingly. The prince drove his sword hard down onto hers, forcing her to bend backwards to block it. She jumped back upright again. Both opponents attacked at every angle, creating a whirlpool of human exertion as each avoided another fatal blow. Without the aid of his strength rune, the prince was slowly tiring, but finally managed to bash the girl's sword out of her hand with the hilt of the blade. She felt her wrist crack as the blade fell.

"Going to concede?" he asked, blade pointed at her neck. Both of their chests heaving.

"Never," she said and lunged for the sword, gritting her teeth as she held it with her broken wrist. She almost dropped the sword but quickly switched hands to the left. He laughed at her.

"Little girl, you are decent at best with your right hand."

"Well then, it's a good thing I'm ambidextrous," she quipped and launched at him. She was slower as predicted and he cockily made it easy for her. He took the defence and then struck out hitting her in the stomach with the hilt. She hit the ground, but kicked mud into his face before he could pin her down. Whilst he was distracted she swiped at his legs causing him to fall down heavily. As quick as a flash she was on top of him, her sword underneath his neck.

"We have a winner!" Alec announced as the crowd clapped and cheered. Clary got off of him, and offered him a hand. He shrugged it off, but then seemed to have a change of heart and accepted it. Once he was standing he gripped her wrist tight, and she saw him move to flip her over, so dropped her weight to the floor. He stumbled forward and she flipped him over her instead.

"Nice try, prince," she said, and left the ring, hopping over the fence and into the crowd. They crowd laughed heartily at the prince in the mud. Admiring the mundane girl brave and skilled enough to beat a Shadowhunter. She _was _brave and skilled… just not exactly mundane

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><p>"Congratulations," Isabelle said as she drew an iratze on Clary's wrist back at her humble house, away from prying eyes. They were on top of the one of two of the beds in the room, this one being Isabelle's. Their little house was quaint and humble, the fire burning, reflecting onto the oak floors and furniture.<p>

"Thank you-"

"… On breaking your wrist." she amended. "Was it really worth it?"

"Of course it was. Now I can laugh behind his back at the feasts. It'll be my only source of entertainment."

"I bet it hurt you though; he managed to beat you up pretty well to." she said, concern undertoning her voice.

"Not really," she said, shrugging it off.

"A broken wrist? Come on, Clary-"

"I've had worse," Clary said, her tone serious. Isabelle's face softened and she drew back, having finished the healing rune.

"I know," she said softly. "It worries me."

Clary sighed, taking her friend's hand in hers.

"Whatever is going to happen will happen, whether we worry or not. My life has always been precarious and I do not foresee the future as being any less so."

"It shouldn't be. You're the damn princess. You should have a life full of parties, glamour and grace."

Clary sighed.

"What we wish for is not, unfortunately, what we always get. You can wish for a hot summer's day and get a storm. You can wish for a good king and get my father."

Isabelle was about to reply when Max came running in, the front door swinging shut behind him. Mud coated his adorable little face.

"Clary! Clary! You're here!" he exclaimed excitedly, rushing to give her a hug. Clary hugged him back just as warmly, both covering each other in mud. Isabelle tutted.

"Max, I told you not to tread mud in here! You're meant to wash outback," she scolded him, although her tone was light. Max coughed twice.

"But Clary is muddy!" he pointed out. It was true.

"That's different, Max,"

"It's not!" he protested. Izzy rolled her eyes.

"Wash and then I think it's time for bed. It's late and we don't want your fever getting any worse," Izzy said to Max, before moving over to the stove. "A hot drink, Clary?" she asked. Clary considered it but had to decline.

"Sorry, Izzy but I really must head back. I'll have a long day tomorrow."

"Of course, you take care of yourself," Izzy warned, giving her a hug before she left.

"Yes, _mother_," Clary teased before whisking her cloak off the back of the chair. She paused in the doorway, almost forgetting.

"Oh and Simon sends his love," she said with a wink and closed the door gently behind her. The town was still in festive spirit at this very late hour, the drunkards having had their fill, no doubt. She hastily made her way back towards the stables where she had left Wayfarer.

"This is one fine 'orse, miss," the stable boy told her as she took the reins back.

"Costs me an arm and a leg too," she told him to his amusement as she swung up to mount.

"Have a good day," he bid her farewell, raising his cap. She smiled.

"You too," she said, and kicked Wayfarer to a start. She was soon out of the town and pelting it back to the castle, stripping herself of her disguise as she went. There was so little time before she was back inside the inhospitable walls of the castle. Back under the control of the King.

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><p><em><strong>Review? ;)<strong>_


	3. News

"Good morning, Princess Clarissa," Sophie announced cheerfully, throwing back the heavy curtains in the princess' chambers. Clary groaned and hid her eyes from the sunlight. Sophie took one long sweep of the messy room and sighed, setting out to pick up the dirty clothes. She threw them into a basket and stared at the lump in the bed disapprovingly.

"You really must arise, my lady; the King requests your presence at breakfast," she informed Clary, who tumbled out of the bed, bleary eyed. Her hair was a mess and her eyes stung as she yawned.

"I'll run you a bath," Sophie decided, and went to fetch a few pales of hot water. She arrived back at her mistress' quarters to find the young woman already fast asleep on top of the bed. Sophie clucked disapprovingly.

"This is what happens when you make late night visits to the town," she reminded her. Clary shot up.

"I didn't go anywhere-" she began but faltered at Sophie's disapproving look. "Okay, fine, I might have left for a teeny tiny short time last night."

Sophie sighed.

"Tired or not, you are to wash and get dressed ready to meet your father for breakfast," she ordered and went on searching through the closet for suitable dresses. Clary huffed but went into the washroom and set about scrubbing off all the grime from the previous night. She had to pay meticulous attention to her nails, making sure to eradicate all evidence of the fight last night. Her father would know otherwise. The water worked wonders for her aching muscles and she lay back in blissful relaxation. Sophie, who marched in with a long green dress draped in her arms and hurried her out of the bath, cutting her reprieve short. She set about dressing Clary, forcing her into the corset and lacing it tight – not as tight as to be unbearable, but still tight. She fixed the silky dress over the top of the undergarments and expertly laced up the back. It was a beautiful dress with leaves embroidered into the material – a compliment to the autumn festival. In no time she was forcing Clary into the vanity seat and fixing her tangled hair, brushing out the knots and encouraging the hair to curl better into perfect ringlets.

"Do you have any idea what the King has to say?" Clary asked Sophie as she set about plaiting her hair behind her head. Sophie looked up into the mirror, glancing at the princess' unguarded face.

"I suspect it is to do with the celebrations tonight," Sophie supplied, giving her an honest answer.

Clary glanced in the mirror at her maid's face as she set about working on her hair. The scar stood out on the side of her face, which even now set the blood boiling underneath her skin. Sophie was one of her closest friends in the castle and thought of anyone hurting her was a bad one. Sophie was honest and kind, a trait many of the residents in castle lacked.

"It is probably that," Clary agreed as Sophie stepped back to admire her work. Her hair was left loose in ringlets aside from the two braids drawing her hair back at the front.

"It's wonderful," Clary complimented.

"Thank you," Sophie answered and smiled, going to fetch some shoes for Clary, who stepped into them and straightened up. She carefully arranged her features into a blank but pleasant mask and strolled out of her chambers.

The click of the heels announced her coming as she walked along to the great double oak doors, which were opened for her by the guards upon her arrival. Back ram rod straight, she entered the great dining hall, all sorts of cuisine laid out on the long Oakwood table. Her father sat at the end of the table, in the place of honour, seated in an elaborate chair. Even as he ate he kept his crown firmly on his head. Her brother was to his right, his platinum hair ringed by his circlet of silver. They both turned as the door opened, announcing her arrival. She curtsied lowly out of courtesy and straightened, walking to her place on the King's left. She felt as if perhaps she too should be wearing her own crown, though it was usually only a formal requirement.

"Good morning, Clarissa," her father greeted her as she took her seat as gracefully as possible.

"Good morning, Father," she replied and nodded towards her brother, "Jonathon."

He nodded and she set about buttering herself some fresh bread. The silence stretched out for a long length of time as each of the royalty ate their fill.

"May I be excused, father?" Clary asked politely once she was finished and realised that nothing further would happen. The King looked at her fully, his gaze raking across her in thoughtful scrutiny. Clary fought the urge to squirm. His eyes had a habit of piercing through her and making her feel as though he could read into her very soul.

"Not yet, Clarissa. There is a matter of importance of which I wish to speak with you first," he said, voice as calm and commanding as always. Jonathon's head snapped up from where he had been tracing the wineglass with his fingers, interest evident in his eyes. Both siblings subconsciously leant forward, anticipating what their father had to say.

"You are of sixteen years of age and it is appropriate that we address the matter of your marital status," he announced, eyes challenging anyone to speak otherwise.

Clary tensed, balling her fingers into fists in her lap. She knew it was only a matter of time. Jonathon raised an eyebrow, an entertained look in his eyes.

"Have you found a suitable match, father?" he asked, eyes flitting between the other two at the table.

"I do believe I have," the King answered, surveying his daughter to gauge her reaction. He knew she would not take the news lightly and was prone to irrational behaviour. Such was the reason of most of her disciplining as a child.

Clary fought hard not to burst into a fit of protests, biting her tongue with great effort. Fruitless bouts of defiance would only lead to painful lashes.

"Am I to meet with him?" she asked, her voice surprisingly level for the amount of panic and outrage festering inside her.

"I am almost certain you will meet him, as he is arriving today to join us in our celebration," he informed her. She digested the information, as it would mean he would most certainly be a man of great power.

"Do you intend to tell me who this man is?" she asked anxiously, knowing already what his answer will be.

"No," he said, "I will announce your engagement on the third night of festivities."

Clary knew why he would delay it too, as keeping her in the dark relinquished her power over the situation and made sure he had control. She glanced over to Jonathon, who was smirking to himself. She fought the urge to hurl a steak knife at his head.

"No matter whether you know your suitor or not," the King continued, "you are to behave with the utmost grace and respect to _every _individual you converse with in these upcoming days. I will _not _tolerate any behaviour that is out of line and if I hear of it you will see yourself chained in the dungeons without hesitation. Do not think that I would not, engaged or otherwise," he warned, shooting Clary a sharp look.

"Jonathon," he addressed his son, "you are not to stray from your position. The festivals are not an excuse to abandon your duty to the Shadowhunters. Training in the daytime is still mandatory."

Jonathon looked put out, causing Clary to smirk, which did not go unnoticed by their father.

"_Neither _of you are to leave the castle grounds. The guards will be notified," he announced, to their utmost dismay.

"But father, there are demons to be killed-" Jonathon protested at the same time that Clary burst out, this being the last straw.

"You can't do that! I have friends outside the castle. If I am going to be married off than I need to say goodbye-"

"SILENCE!" the King roared, banging a fist onto the table with a clutter of cutlery, causing both of them to stop immediately. He had risen to his feet and now towered over the two. "You dare to speak against _my_ decisions!" he shouted. "I am the King and you two had better start respecting that or do I need to beat it into you?" He glared at the pair of them. "Jonathon, when was the last time you actually killed a demon?"

Jonathon looked uncomfortable. They all knew that he neglected his duties for the town, drinking and having fun in the pubs instead.

"And Clarissa," he said, rounding on her, "You are marrying a very powerful man who is of the upmost importance to this kingdom. You must learn to hold your tongue or I will cut it out for you."

"Surely my husband would want to converse with me?" she shot back, fired up now. His jaw clenched and she instantly regretted speaking.

"There are other ways I could silence you," he said, twirling his stele between his fingers. "Don't make me use them on you,"

She nodded and dipped her head in submissal. A silence rune was not what she needed.

"My apologies father. I was acting irrationally," she apologised, conscious of his aggressive demeanour. He grunted.

"Regardless, let this be a lesson for you to learn. Your future husband will be no more lenient than me," he said, and then composed himself. "Make good use of the day and I shall see you two tonight at the dance," he announced and made his leave.

* * *

><p>"ARGHH!" Clary screamed, kicking a bale of hay out of her way in the stable loft. "I can't believe he'd do that!"<p>

She paced back and forth before tiring and flopping back down into a soft pile of hay in exasperation. She glared up at the wooden beams in the ceiling, glaring at the pretty swirling dust motes. The wooden ladder creaked as Simon climbed up it. Clary turned to look up at him and huffed, turning away.

"Bad news?" Simon guessed, cautiously perching next to her.

"You have no idea," Clary muttered.

"Would you care to enlighten me?" he replied, picking at a piece of straw. Clary sighed.

"The King has announced that I am to be betrothed," she said quietly.

Simon sucked in a sharp breath.

"So soon?" he asked, the hurt threatening to take over his voice.

"It's hardly a surprise, and as my brother was so keen to tell me, 'sixteen is the ripe age for bride'."

"If doesn't make it any better, is there any way-"

"No Simon, do you really believe my father would let me out of this?"

Simon huffed.

"This new man could really hurt you. You'd have to live with him, give him heirs-"

"You think I haven't thought of that? I don't want this any more than you do," she snapped back.

"I'm sorry, I just don't want to lose a friend," Simon apologised, moving to sit side by side with her.

"Neither do I. I could be living anywhere. I'll be away from you, Izzy, Tess… everyone I love," she said, "and what makes it even worse is that I am not even allowed to leave the castle!"

Simon sighed.

"Do you know when the wedding is to be?" he asked.

"No, and I suspect my father will leave it until the night before to tell me," she replied, pulling apart pieces of straw. The sound of hooves on cobblestones floated through the open hay door and they both sat up, looking through to see who had arrived. Simon immediately scrambled to his feet and almost fell down the ladder. Clary watched from the high window as Simon ran out to take the reins of the two horses. It was unfortunately the blonde prince and his advisor, although Clary laughed to herself thinking about the fight. They were both still striking, even when observed from afar. Both were heavily decked in noble attire, the prince wearing an elaborate crown. A carriage trundled in behind them, coming to an abrupt halt behind the two on horseback. By this time Clary was leaning so far out the hatch that she almost fell, catching herself on the ledge. The movement caused the prince to look up in her direction and upon seeing her he smirked, a clear gleam in his eye. He nodded his head to her. She ducked away as soon as he made eye contact, avoiding the attention of the whole procession. Her heart was beating erratically and she jumped as a commotion erupted downstairs as the stablehands dealt with each horse. She rushed down to help, glancing out to where her father was busy greeting King Stephen and Queen Celine, along with their pretentious son, of course.

"Gah! I can't hold him!" someone yelled and she whipped around to see a mighty black horse rearing up and kicking out at Cyril who was struggling to keep him tethered. He was clearly powerful and poor Cyril was caught by one of the hoofs and was sent flying. Simon and Thomas rushed to control the horse before it bolted, but seemed to be having no better luck and the horse tossed its head, causing the reins to slip from their grasp. Clary recklessly ran at the horse, leaping up onto the saddle and grabbing the reins. It reared up but she held on fast and blinded it with her hand. It ceased its fretting and calmed. Breathlessly she looked up to find all three stable hands gaping at her.

"It's a Shadowhunter thing," Simon declared and returned to the task of unsaddling the other horse. Clary smiled and slid off the horse, petting its muzzle.

"He's a gentle giant really," she cooed and they all scoffed.

"You can handle him if he's so gentle then," Cyril said and set about mucking out an empty stall for the new arrivals.

"It responds to dominancy, which you guys obviously lack," she teased and set about unsaddling the beast.

"No," Cyril disagreed, "It responds to Nephilim, which we are not."

Clary sighed.  
>"I suppose so," she agreed and heaved the heavy saddle onto a saddle hook. She then began scrubbing the horse down, a pretty big task considering the sheer size of the animal.<p>

"Shouldn't you be busying yourself elsewhere?" Thomas asked as he walked past her.

"Probably," she replied honestly, "but I prefer it here."

"Whether it be your preference or not, you'll ruin your dress," he shot back and she looked down at the dress, which was indeed already dirty.

"To hell with the dress," she said confidently. They laughed.

"In case you haven't noticed darling you're a princess," he informed her, amusement coating his voice and she threw the thoroughly wet sponge in his face. Her training coming into use as it landed perfectly.

"In case you haven't noticed, I don't care," she said and began brushing out its mane. Thomas grunted and they all laughed, but he made sure to knock her playfully round the head when he next past her.

* * *

><p>"Clary! For goodness sake! <em>Stop!<em>" Charlotte urged, although her tone was light and her eyes held only fondness for the girl.

"Charlotte, you are up to your neck in work," she pointed out, continuing to scrub the massive pan in her hands. "It's the least I can do,"

Charlotte sighed, wiping her hands against her greasy apron. Clary turned her attention to the pot with increased vigour, before reaching out to grab a second one. Charlotte stopped her before she could continue. Clary had been labouring away in the stuffy confines of the kitchen for a good few hours.

"Clary," she said, this time softly, but yet more stern. Clary huffed and looked up into Charlotte's eyes, leaning back against the wood counter. Charlotte instinctively tucked a stray piece of Clary's hair behind her ear. It was a loving motherly gesture and Clary closed her eyes.

"Is this really to do with the work?" Charlotte asked gently. Clary looked down, but Charlotte could see the tears brimming in her eyes. Without even a second thought she hugged the princess to her chest, stroking her hair as the royal girl cried.

"I am to be betrothed," Clary said, hugging onto her only motherly figure tightly. Jocelyn had been in her coma for a good seven years now.

"Oh, Clary." Charlotte soothed her, and pulled back to hold her at arm's length. Her hand went to cup her cheek and wipe away the tears.

"You are strong, independent and tough. You can give this new man a run for his money that's for sure," she said and Clary laughed quietly. "It will be fine, Clary. You'll be fine,"

Clary fidgeted with the skirts of her very much ruined dress nervously.

"I'm just…scared," she admitted. Charlotte smiled and squeezed her cheek before dropping her hand.

"And that is perfectly understandable," she reassured her.

"Clarissa!" Sophie called, she looked flustered and relieved when she came up to them. "We have to get you ready for the dance and-" she faltered, taking in Clary's attire. "What on earth have you been doing!?"

"I…just," Clary said, not willing to explain herself. Charlotte smiled and pulled Clary in for one last hug and kissed her forehead.

"Go," she urged her. Clary nodded and obediently followed Sophie out of the kitchens and up to her chambers.

* * *

><p>Clary sucked a breath sharply as Sophie tugged harshly on the corset laces, lashing them incredibly tight.<p>

"I'm still going to have to breathe!" Clary gasped out, reminding Sophie. Sophie smiled apologetically but didn't loosen them any further, instead finishing and stepping back to force Clary back into the vanity seat for the second time that day. Clary stared glumly at the mirror and waited patiently as Sophie poked, prodded, brushed, tugged and powdered her face and hair to oblivion. After _centuries _Sophie was finally finished and Clary reached for her favourite boots, but of course Sophie presented her with dreaded heels instead. She sighed, but put them on without a fuss.

"There, see?" Sophie tried to encourage her, turning her around to face the long mirror. Her face was immaculate, her hair gorgeously curled. The dress itself even she had to admit was a beauty, it had a neckline of embroidered leaves and flowed out from her waist in a myriad of deep autumn colours – looking as if it were a bed of fallen leaves. Sophie smiled and set the royal circlet upon her head carefully, it was a twisted thread of stars and leaves, the combination of both Morgenstern and Fairchild symbols. The relationship between the two families being age old. Clary often wondered how many other young girls had worn it before her, although she really ought to know considering the arduous history lessons she _should_ have paid attention to.

"I am certain you will be the most beautiful girl at the dance," Sophie assured her, beaming brightly. She smiled back but her heart wasn't in it. What was the point in appearing beautiful when she felt like she was dying inside?

"Perhaps," she replied instead and rummaged around in her nearby desk, shifting sheets and sheets of sketches. Her fingers made contact with the cylindrical shape of her stele and she smiled in relief, pulling it out of the pile before carefully sinking onto her four poster bed. Sophie watched in silence and awe as she sketched runes of Agility, Strength, Stamina, Flexibility and even a Calming rune, such as was the extent of Clary's anxiety. Once she was done her arms were illustrated with the swirling patterns and Sophie thought she looked more ready for battle than a dance. The princess did look noticeably calmer and she stood up, thanking Sophie for her work before leaving to find her brother.

She found him lurking close by to her chambers, he nodded at her in greeting as his eyes examining her attire.

"Exquisite," he complimented and she couldn't help the small smile.

"You clean up pretty well too," she replied, it was true of course. He looked quite handsome, although she doubted he was suffering the same suffocation as she was. He laughed.

"I see you have not changed much," he commented, before presenting arms with her so that he could escort.

"Why? Should I have?" she retorted. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Why? Because you are a woman now, Clary. A soon to be married one at that," he answered, drawing her a little closer to his side as they walked down the winding corridors of the castle. She huffed – trust Jonathon to bring up her engagement.

"I do not want to discuss that matter," she told him. He smirked.

"You cannot spend the entire night avoiding any male that you come across," he informed her, "In fact, I forbid it. I suspect father will to. Remember Clary, he'll be watching you like a hawk,"

"Well then he can spectate as I avoid them all," she retorted. Jonathon pinched her arm discreetly, still nodding to the few guests that they passed. She recoiled, but he tugged her arm back into his.

"No, Clary." He scolded her, "You will be the most beautiful woman at the dance and as the daughter of the host it is your duty to converse and entertain the guests. _Every single one_."

"Surely, I can't dance with them _all_?" she replied smartly. He growled and she flinched slightly, edging away from him but he pulled her back.

"Have it as you wish," he told her, "but don't come running to me when father punishes you for it,"

She shivered involuntarily and he smirked.

"I see that you have made up your mind," he observed smugly. She huffed and he drew them to a stop as they arrived at the entrance of the great dance hall.

The dance was in full swing and Clary was fighting to keep up with the rapid pace of the music as she danced with the large man in front of her. He crushed her small hand in his and she was relieved when the dance ended. The man kissed her hand and she smiled falsely before moving away to search for a drink. Alas, someone grabbed her hand and elegantly turned her round to face them. Her hand was in the grip of a dark, handsome man. His hair was as dark as night and his eyes were even darker, the artist in her could appreciate his beauty but there something about him that made her want to cringe away.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, lifting her hand to his lips. She wanted to refuse but dutifully agreed. He smiled widely and led her back onto the dance floor, her hand possessively in his. He drew them closer than any of the other men had and his hand felt incredibly intrusive on her hip.

"I must say, you do look beautiful," he said as he spun them around the floor, drawing her flush against him. His possessiveness made her wonder whether he was her suitor. She shivered in disgust at the thought and he smirked, taking it the wrong way. The dance seemed to last forever and when it finally did finish he leaned down towards her. She panicked, thinking he was about to kiss her, but instead he tucked a stray curl behind her ear and drew back. She let out as deep a sigh of relief as her restrictive corset allowed. His eyes found something else in the room and Clary almost ran to the buffet table in her haste to get away from him.

Charlotte had really outdone herself and Clary wondered what food she could eat first. She took a glass of water to quench her growing thirst and then reached out to the chocolate swirls. It tasted so good that it wouldn't do any harm to have anymore would it? At the fifth one she knew she should stop but it tastes so good! She reached out for another when someone cleared their throat from behind her. She turned and was a little startled when she laid eyes on blonde Prince Jonathon the arrogant. She smiled in recollection.

"Ah, Clarissa," he said. He looked thoroughly amused, she wanted to punch the infuriating smirk of his face. "It appears to me that you have managed to dance with every other male but me. I feel left out," he commented. _I bet you do, _she thought.

"Oh," she replied, "well I assure you it is unintentional, Prince…."

"Jonathon," he supplied, "but you can call me Jace," he added with a wink. _I have a few other words I'd call you: arrogant, asshat, loser… _

"Well okay, Jace." She said instead. He smiled broadly and took her hand.

"May I have the privilege of a dance?" he asked and she nodded. He smiled impossibly wider and led her back to the floor. He drew her in for the dance, but thankfully kept a little more distance than the other man did. They were still a little too close though. As he twirled her, she noticed his left eye looked slightly bruised and tender as if it were the fading's of a black eye. She couldn't help but laugh a little. Jace cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Is there something you find amusing?" He asked, voice as pure as liquid gold and as annoying as hell.

"Nothing," she replied, flashing him an innocent smile. His hand tightened fractionally on her hip to draw her a little closer.  
>"I am certain it was something," he said and leant down closer to her ear, "You can tell me,"<p>

"Of course I can," she replied back, "but it depends whether I want to,"

He laughed and lifted her up in time with dance, twirling her close to him as soon as her feet touched the ground. She hated ball room dancing, it meant that you had to get so close to your partner. Tavern dancing was much less intimate and much more fun.

"You look far away," Jace commented, "something on your mind?"

She only rolled her eyes. He raised an eyebrow.

"That's rude for a princess," he remarked.

"Who are you?" she argued back, "My brother?"

"No, I am evidently not," he said, and there was a little gleam in his eye that told her he knew something she didn't. It unsettled her. Did he have some conspiracy with her brother? She huffed.

"So, aren't you meant to be asking me questions about myself? Getting to your guests? Welcoming me into your kingdom?"

"I'm sure you've already made yourself welcome," she muttered, although due to their close proximity, he heard. He narrowed his eyes.  
>"What's that supposed to mean?"<p>

"Nothing," she answered brightly. He raised another eyebrow at her – unconvinced.

"I just meant that I'm sure my father has already done all that." She covered.

Jace nodded.

"He has, but I wished to hear it from a beautiful young girl such as yourself," he said, obviously flirting with her. She resisted another eye roll just as the song came to an end. He bent down to kiss her hand in passing. It was seen as rude to dance with the same person for more than one dance-that is if you were not married of course.

"I hope to speak with you again, Clarissa," he said, although she was certain they would meet at some point. He didn't seem like the type to leave her alone.

"And I you," she replied, merely out of courtesy as she could feel her father's eyes one her. He smiled and left to speak with the other guests. She turned to catch eyes with the King who studied her before turning back to King Stephen at his side. She sighed and waited for the next male to come and sweep her off her feet.


	4. Libraries

Clary took the stairs two at time, no hesitation in her gait as she made her way to her mother's chambers. She needed to see her again, at least one more time before she might never see her at all. It was today that Magnus Bane would be coming on his monthly visit to see to Jocelyn and attempt to procure a remedy for her. He had never been successful thus far, but Clary trusted him. He was a skilled warlock. She reached the top of the stone steps and pushed open the wooden door which swung forward to reveal Jocelyn.

She was lying ethereally upon her bed, as she had done for the past seven years, her eyes closed and unmoving. Magnus was at work assessing her condition, he glanced up when she entered.

"Hello, Clary," he greeted her, setting down the vial in his hand.

"How is she?" Clary asked, apprehensive as she always was concerning her mother's condition.

"Same old, I'm afraid," he told her, a sympathetic smile on his lips. She nodded and came to sit next to her mother on the great queen side bed. It seemed as if her mother had never aged, kept in a constant state of paralysis, maybe forever…

"So, any news?" Magnus enquired, "I'm afraid I missed the ball yesterday, it was terribly untactful of me. Now I will be behind on all the gossip,"

"I doubt you missed much,"

"Oh I don't know," he disagreed, "Lady Pomfrey has still never finished telling me the story about her cat. A fascinating tale-"

"Magus I'm sorry but Lady Pomfrey's spoilt cat doesn't really spark me as an exciting tale."

He rolled his eyes.

"If only you showed a little more interest in political affairs."

"Gossip is not political affairs, Magnus,"

"Ah, but it does involve affairs,"

Clary huffed in exasperation.

"I do actually have something I wished to speak to you about," Clary informed him, "You see, my friends' the lightwoods have a brother and he's really very ill and-"

"The Lightwood's meaning the guy with the blue eyes?" Magnus interrupted.

"Well, yes, Alec, but his brother-" Clary tried to continue.

"Clary I will visit them as soon as I can." Magnus assured her, "Think of it as a favour, in exchange for you to listen to the story about the cat."

Clary groaned.

"And then Mr. Pickles got into a little spot of bother with the officials in Peru. I've frequented Peru myself, although between you and me, I was kicked out," Magnus tapped his noise.

"For what?"

Magnus sighed.

"Because apparently yodelling in the chapel is seen as an offence, it made all the Llama's migrate."

Clary laughed loudly, shaking her head and Magnus' whims. Just at that moment the door creaked upon and Magnus scrambled to his feet from where he was lounging about with Clary on the bed. King Valentine stood in the doorway with a look of disapproval adorning his face. Magnus bowed extravagantly and Clary bowed her head in respect, wiping away her smile.

"Bane, have there been any signs of improvement?" Her father asked, voice betraying no emotion.

"The Queen is stable although I do not perceive any signs of improvement."

Valentine nodded and his eyes flitted to his wife and his daughter.

"You may leave," he dismissed Magnus, "I wish to speak to my family alone."

"Of course, sire." Magnus said and made his exit, sweeping his way out of the Queens's chambers.

Her father made her way over to her and stopped at the end of the bed to brush a piece of hair away from her mother's face. She watched him, unsure what to do.

"Seven year is a long time isn't it?" Valentine said, his eyes finding Clary's-the same colour as his wife's were.

"Well yes, I suppose so," Clary replied, caught off guard.

"It seems a bit odd, doesn't it?" he questioned. She frowned.

"S-she is ill, so…"

"Is she?" he countered. She was so confused.

"What else are you suggesting? Magnus has tried all he can."

He studied her closely, adding to her discomfort.

"I cannot say I still believe that after seven years, Magnus is biding his time don't you think?"

"Magnus is a good, honest warlock he-"

"He has lived a long life, has had lots of experience and yet he cannot procure a cure for my wife? Who is seemingly _only_ ill? Does that not arise as suspicious to you?"

"Father, Magnus is not to blame. He should not be the subject of such accusations-"

"What then, do you suppose is wrong with your mother?"

"Illness-"

"One is not simply ill for seven years." Her father counteracted, "It must be something else. Where would your mind turn to upon this information? Who?"

Clary realised what he was insinuating.

"Father she is only ill!" she cried, refusing to agree with her father. Valentine gave her look that could only be acquitted to pity.

"I will find a way to wake Jocelyn up," he stated, "and you don't have to agree with my methods,"

Her eyes flew wide.

"Father, no!" she protested, "Magnus is a friend, he would never-"

"This is the work of a powerful Warlock over a long period of time. Tell me, Clarissa, is there any other Warlock who has been allowed access to Jocelyn all these years?"

"No," she said, "but-"

"You're loyalty is commendable." He said, "However, Downworlders are never to be trusted, whether they wear the face of a friend or not."

"Magnus is not Luke." She muttered. Her father's face darkened and he grabbed her wrist.

"You do not bring up that subject," he seethed. She nodded meekly.

"I'm sorry, father." she apologised, hoping to defuse the tension. She was not in the mood for her father's aggression, she had much more pressing matters to think about.

He nodded and slowly let go of her wrist. He turned to the Queen and kissed her forehead.

"I _will_ find a cure," he stated with a lot of conviction and stood up, she rose to her feet as well.

"Go see to the ladies of the court," he father ordered, "I'm sure they are missing your presence,"

She nodded and didn't try to protest, even if she hated spending time with all the other ladies sewing and talking about their glorious husbands. It was a waste of precious time. Her father put a hand under her chin and softly tilted her head to meet his eyes, startling Clary by his small show of affection. He smiled a little, before nodding as if pleased and left the room.

* * *

><p>"Magnus!" Clary called out after the fast walking warlock. "MAGNUS!" she yelled. He turned around finally and she sped down the stone steps toward him, skidding to a halt.<p>

"What?" he asked, irritated.

"There's something I need to talk to you about," she gasped out, out of breath. He cocked his head.  
>"Well then?"<p>

"Not here," she said and dragged him by the elbow towards the stables.

"Really, Clary-" Magnus started once Clary had hidden them in a nearby stall.

"The King is suspicious." She told him.

His face turned grave.

"Be really careful. He thinks you're not trying to heal my mother. I think he suspects you're using some kind of magic to keep her in her coma or something-"

"I take it your father is desperate for your mother to wake?" he asked.

"Well, yes but Magnus-"

"Don't worry Clary. I'll be fine." He assured her.

"But the King-"

"I am going away to visit a few friends for a while, you mustn't worry about me,"

"But Magnus!"

He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked at her fully.

"I will be fine. I expected this,"

"Magnus…"

"You take care of yourself, I hear you have a husband to annoy."

Clary rolled her eyes but didn't shake her worried expression.

"Clarissa Adele Morgenstern, I have lived longer than this very castle. I think I can handle one idle threat from a monarch. I am going away. I will be safe."

"…okay Magnus. Just…take care,"

He smiled.

"Oh I will. I have some business to take care of," he said, his eyes gleaming.

* * *

><p>Clary sat underneath the beautiful oak tree, parchment balanced on her lap supported by a book as she scribbled her letter to Isabelle. She absentmindedly dipped the quill in the ink and turned back to the letter, only to be startled by an unknown symbol branded onto the paper. She frowned and studied it. <em>Did I draw that? <em>She thought. It looked like a rune and yet….it was not one she knew. _How strange…_

"Head's up!" someone yelled and she reacted just in time to catch the bow staff flying toward her face. She studied it in shock and looked up to find the Shadowhunters who had been sparring all stopping to stare. She stood up as one of them jogged over to her to reclaim his bow staff. It had was Jace, of course it was, he probably threw it as an excuse to talk to her.

"Ah Clarissa, we meet again," he said.

"Were you trying to decapitate me?" she asked, twirling it behind her back. It was one of her most favourite weapons.

"I would never try to harm a woman," he replied.

"Right…." She said, he had already broken her wrist and she was a woman!

"Can I have the weapon back now?" Jace asked, clearing his throat.

"Mm, I don't know…" she said, twirling it deftly in her hands.

"Princess, the men need to fight."

She jabbed him with the end sharply in his shoulder.

"Woman are just as capable,"

"I'm sure." He said, although his eyes showed humour.

"Maybe you're just insecure because-"

"Oh for the Angel's sake, hand over the bow staff!" Jonathon said, coming to join them. Clary smirked.

"Why don't you fight me for it?" she challenged.

"Oh stop being stupid," Jonathon scolded and wrenched it from her hands.

"It's not my fault that you know you'll lose," she jibed. Jonathon shot her a very dark look as his hands fisted at his sides.

"You are walking on thin ice young lady," he warned. Jace watched the exchange in bemusement. Clary shrugged.

"Aren't you meant to be gossiping in the castle?" Jonathon growled.

"I have been!" she exclaimed. "For _hours_! Do you know how painful it is to sit and listen to the same story over and over?!"

Jonathon only glared at her. She glared right back.

"Go," he ground out.

"No," she said, defiantly.

Jonathon snarled.

"Are we really going to argue about this?"

"Evidently,"

Jonathon grabbed her wrist and dragged her a good few metres back to the castle.

"Now go," he said, "We have training to do,"

"And I was writing a letter before that idiot threw a bow staff at my head!" she retaliated.

Jonathon ground his teeth, but Jace stepped in before it could go further.

"Just leave it." he said, the only voice of reason. "Let her finish her letter."

Jonathon shot her a venomous look before storming back to the sparring court and grabbing his sword. Jace followed behind, although Clary didn't miss the wink he sent her way.

* * *

><p>Clary climbed lithely up the ladder and spied the thick book ahead of her. She bit her lip and stretched out as far as she could, smiling triumphantly as her fingers latched onto the edge of it. It was one of her favourite things to do: climb to the upmost high shelf of their expansive castle library and pick out the most random book she could. She was examining the dusted and worn cover when someone cleared their throat beneath her. She was so startled that she fumbled with the heavy book and it slipped through her fingers, tumbling down to the floor.<p>

"Ow!" A male voice grunted and her eyes flew wide. She scrambled back down the ladder, almost falling.

"I am so, so sorry" she apologised, racing down to the floor "You startled me!"

She flustered about coming to a stop in front of the man cradling his head in his hand. She pried his hands away to examine a new forming lump.

"Do you need an irratze?" She gushed, face flustered from injuring them. They chuckled and she finally realised who it was. Jace was staring back at her with a look of both pain and amusement. Her hands fell from where they were examining his injury.

"Oh, Jace," she said, now feeling slightly awkward.

"Princess Clarissa," he replied, "Were _you_ trying to decapitate _me_?"

"Well no, you startled me," she defended her herself, "and it's Clary actually," she added, a little annoyed now. Couldn't it have been anyone else?

"Okay then, Clary," he corrected, smirk on his lip. She repressed the urge to thwack him again, grateful that she at least got a second chance at that.

"What we're you doing here anyway?" She asked.

"Well what else does one do in a library besides reading?" he replied, one eyebrow raised.

"Shouldn't you be play fighting with the other 'Shadowhunters'?"

"Shouldn't you be spending time with the ladies of the court?" He retorted. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Maybe I have already spent enough time with them?" she responded deftly, plucking her book off of where it had landed on the floor.

"Maybe I don't need to train anymore? I am one of the best," Jace said arrogantly.

Clary snorted. He raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe you _should _train more," she remarked. His face darkened.

"What's that meant to mean?" He asked, his voice guarded.

"Nothing," she said brightly and smiled before stepping around him to her favourite comfy spot by the fire. She could feel Jace's eyes on her as she made herself comfortable. She had just go to page 2 when Jace came behind her chair and placed him arms around the back of the armchair, caging her in with his arms. She determinedly kept reading, but when she reached out to turn the page Jace swiped the book out of her hands. She could feel his hot breath on her neck, dangerously close.

"What was that meant to mean?" He repeated, voice low in her ear.

"Nothing," she also repeated. His hands tightened on the arm rest.

"What rumours have you heard? Because I assure you, I do not need more training."

"What rumours may I have heard?" She asked innocently.

He growled.

"Just remember, princess. I could squash you like a bug."

"Is that a threat or challenge? Because if it's threat I'd have to alert my father."

Jace laughed.

"Go ahead," he said confidently and his hands left her chair as he stalked out of the room. Clary wasn't sure whether she should be celebrating or very worried indeed.

_**Ah! This story is so much fun to write! **_


	5. Feasts

The castle gardens were looking particular beautiful as Clary ambled through them, smiling peacefully to herself as she observed the flowers in full bloom. She brushed her fingers out to touch the velvety petals of a nearby rose. It was easy to lose herself in the winding stone paths, thinking of nothing but the natural beauty. There was no worry about weddings and kingdoms, just the ageless stone archways and pristine lawns. The sun was beginning to set around her and she breathed in cool air as she leaned against a great oak tree. Its leaves were turning autumn's shades, the drifting leaves collecting around her feet. It was her favourite childhood tree, one which she and Jonathon used to clamber up and challenge each other to see how high they could go.

"Rather beautiful isn't it?" someone asked. She almost jumped out of her skin and whipped around to face the intruder. She had half expected Jace, but her eyes fell upon the dark prince from last night.

"Yes, I suppose," she replied, consciously moving a little away from him. He gave her an uneasy feeling. He nodded.

"Although it is a little late, I hear the feast is about to start soon," he said. Her heart died a little, she was out here to get away from the feast. Although, it would be this man or her brother taking her back. She reluctantly had to agree that he was the better alternative, her and her brother had an…interesting relationship. Ever since her father was adamant that Jonathon be his ultimate successor, he had become enthralled with political affairs. They didn't always see eye to eye and Jonathon didn't refrain from violence when he thought she was in the wrong. But then, neither did her father nor most men.

"I was just taking a little breather, it can get busy at this time of the year," she replied politely.

"Busy indeed." He agreed. "Walk back with me?"

She nodded her head. He smiled and began walking.

"I'm afraid I don't know your name?" Clary said.

"Sebastian Verlac," he replied. "King of France,"

She almost did a double take. King? She really should have paid more attention to politics.

"King? That must be a great responsibility."

"I can handle it," he said, his tone sounding a little on the defence.

"Oh I didn't mean you were incapable-"

He looked doubtful.

"Most people doubt my ability, Clarissa," he said sharply, but softened his tone to say, "but I am sure you did not mean it in that way. You seem like a very nice young lady."  
>She didn't quite know how to respond. He wasn't like Jonathon or Jace, with whom she knew exactly what to say.<p>

"You must be cold," Sebastian said, raising an eyebrow at her exposed arms.

"Oh," she replied, "I have a heating rune…"

He nodded and surveyed her arms, although his eyes did wander to her chest. She repressed a grimace.

"It is…odd that you have so many runes."

"Well, I _am_ a Shadowhunter," she replied, a little hotly.

"But a woman also,"

Her dislike for him grew even more.

"I think any Nephilim can wear runes," she replied, fighting to stay calm and not scream at him. "They are after all a gift from the Angel,"

"Mm," he said. "I would simply advise you wear less, and only on your arms and legs,"

She almost _did_ scream. What right did he have to tell her where she could have runes!?"

"Why?" She asked, "Runes are stronger closer to the heart, any _good _Shadowhunter knows that."

His eyes flashed dangerously, and she backed away a little.

"It is a form of etiquette," he snapped back, "and do not jibe at my fighting abilities,"

"Etiquette!?" She repeated, aghast. "Are demons going to care about _etiquette_!?"

"You do not need to fight demons!" he snapped back, "You are _royal _Clarissa. There are Shadowhunters who do that for you!"

She refused to back down to his pompous highness.

"Excuse me!? Who are you give orders? To tell me where I can have runes!?" she yelled at him. He grabbed her by the neck and forced her close to him so they were mere inches apart. All she could see were his eyes, two dark abysses.

"I am a King," he spat, seething now, "And you respect that,"

He shoved her away from him, she stumbled slightly. He glared at her.

"You would do well to make friends, not enemies with _powerful _Kings,"

She narrowed her eyes at him but he had already stalked off.

* * *

><p>The feast was in full swing and then noise was deafening. Clary was eating her food slowly, so as to avoid conversation and was doing her best to hide. It was hard, seeing as she was seated right at the front, on higher seats next to Jonathon at the guest table. Her father was laughing loudly and talking to King Herondale at his side. <em>King <em>Verlac was seated not far away and Clary realised with a jolt that he may be her future husband. Although her husband could be any of the powerful men in the room. She couldn't even discount the aging men in the room, as she would not put it past her father to match her with one of them. Clary went back to eating her delicious cake, even if she was not happy to be here, she couldn't not enjoy the great food. The King stood up and the entire room hushed. She set down her cutlery, a feeling of dread sinking in her stomach. _Surely he would not announce it now…._

"I have a very important announcement to make," He said, his voice booming out across the great stone dining hall. The butterflies in her stomach were going wild and she worried she would be sick.

"I am glad to announce the betrothal between my daughter and Prince Jonathon Herondale," King Valentine continued. Clary almost screamed. Jace. Jace the most obnoxious man she had ever met. Jace the pompous idiot. Jace the man she beat up. Jace the arrogant. Jace...her husband.

She looked to where he had now risen from his seat, gesturing to her with a blinding smile. Her father shot her a look and so she too stood up awkwardly. Jace made his way around the table to kneel before her and place the Herondale ring on her finger. She had to physically restrain herself from slapping him. The way he was so unsurprised meant that he had known all along. _All along_ and not once did he think to tell her? Bastard.

"And now," Valentine said, "It is time for entertainment!"

A jester began cracking jokes as other townsfolk broke into dancing with the music, which had been playing all night long. A Shadowhunter was impressively spinning a bow staff which was on fire.

"I must say, wife, you are looking stunning," Jace said in her ear. She glared at him, but didn't say any spiteful words due to her father's stern look. Instead, she bit back the words and smiled. Jace smirked and led her into an empty seat next to where he had been sitting. She adamantly ignored him, pretending to be far more interested in the performers. _She was going to marry Jace. JACE! Why is the world so cruel!? _

"You cannot ignore me forever," Jace said, humorously.

"I can try," she replied, not moving her eyes from the dancers. She knew every dance they danced, which she was certain no one else in the room would. It was a peasant practise unless it was ballroom. She knew each dancer too, or at least recognised them. In fact, was that…Izzy? She realised with dread that it was. What was she _doing _here? She excused herself under the pretence of needing the bathroom and made her way toward Izzy. As soon as Isabelle glanced up and met eyes with her, she moved toward her. Clary gestured with her head to the corridor outside, Isabelle nodded and followed.

"What are you doing here!?" Clary hissed, as soon as they were alone.

"I got your note. I thought I'd come to see you seeing as you can't leave the castle,"

"Izzy!" Clary almost yelled, "You idiot!"

Isabelle looked offended.

"They were asking for dancers and I thought why not? What's the big deal?"

"What's the big deal!?" Clary asked, aghast. "Izzy!"

"Is this about Prince Asshat?" Izzy said, eyes glinting. "I feel just as bad about it." she assured her friend, patting the princess on the back. "Although you have to admit, it is rather funny. It's like fate."

Clary rolled her eyes.

"Look, just stay low and don't-"

"Clarissa!" Jonathon called and they both whipped around. Jonathon's hands immediately went to his sword when he saw Izzy. Clary instinctively moved to stand in front of her.

"Jonathon?" She questioned. He looked back and forth between them, eyes narrowed.

"What is this?" he asked. Clary tensed.

"Sorry, my liege," Isabelle apologised. "It is my fault. I tripped over and Princess Clarissa was so gracious as to help me,"

Clary let out a breath she had not been aware she was holding. Jonathon's eyes lingered on Izzy.

"And who might you be? A Lightwood?"

"No! No!" Clary immediately swooped in, "She is just a villager,"

"Just a villager?" Jonathon repeated. She could tell he was suspicious. "She does resemble Maryse quite startlingly don't you think?"

"A mere coincidence?"

"Clary I know when you are lying." Jonathon snapped.

"What would I be lying about?" She snapped back. "I don't know her, I just helped her up,"

Jonathon strode forward and grabbed Izzy by the wrist, closely inspecting her. Her sleeve fell down to expose the swirling runes decorating her arm. Her eyes widened at the same time as her brothers. Izzy shared a frantic look with Clary.

"_Clarissa_," He growled, rounding on her, a vice like grip on Izzy's wrist.

"Stop Jonathon! She's just a friend from the village that-"

"A friend from the village with runes!?" He spat. "Clarissa, is this about the wedding?"

"No, no. It's nothing like that! She was just here for the dancing!"

Jonathon slapped her round the face.

"Stop lying!" he yelled, as she cradled her face. Isabelle wrenched her arm out of his grip and kicked Jonathon in the shin.

"Don't hurt her!" Izzy shouted, coming to Clary's defence.

"Go, Izzy!" Clary said, urging Izzy to just run away. However, Jonathon recovered quickly and slammed Izzy into the stone wall.

"Who are you?" he asked, pinning her in place.

"Isabelle," she replied, a steely look in her eye. Jonathon growled and slammed her back into the wall again. Clary tried to pry his hands off her best friend.

"What's going on?" someone asked. They all turned to Jace, who was standing in the corridor with a stern expression. Jonathon wheeled Isabelle around in front of him.

"Your fiancé was talking to this girl," he explained.

"Is that a crime?" Jace asked, confused.

"Exactly, Jonathon it wasn't anything-" Clary said, but Jonathon silenced her.

"It is _suspicious _when this girls bears the marks of the Angel," Jonathon said and displayed Izzy's sight rune. "And she is apparently not of royal origins? Does that not strike you as odd?"

Jace frowned.

"Are you sure she isn't a Lightwood?"

"The Lightwood's don't have any children fool-" Jonathon started but stopped as if he had had a sudden realisation.

"Where are you from?" He asked Izzy.  
>"The Village like Clary said!"<p>

"Before you came to this village,"

"I-I don't-"

"She doesn't know," Clary said, "Their older brother said they were dumped in the village. He can't remember anything before that so let her go!"

"Did you know the Lightwood's had children, girl?" Jonathon said to Isabelle, ignoring Clary. "Three children with black hair and blue eyes. Do you know what happened to them?"

"I-Of course I don't!"

"They were kidnapped," he told her, "_Years _ago now."

Clary's heart was beating erratically.

"Jonathon she's not-"

"Do you know that for sure?"

"Well no-"

"You do realise, Clary. That you better pray she is their long lost daughter. Otherwise she may be charged for treason,"

"_Treason? _Why?"

"You _have_ heard of the Mortal Cup?" he asked, and she nodded. "Well, of course you have. Father hasn't stopped looking for it since it was lost. Do you remember what it has the power to do?"

"Change mundanes into Shadowhunters…" she whispered. Jonathon smiled.

"Correct."

"No! No! What are you talking about!? I've always been like this," Izzy protested.

"Well you better hope so," Jonathon said and led her back into the dining hall. Clary didn't know what to do other than follow them behind. The feast and entertainment was still underway but Jonathon ignored that and marched forward to the table where the Lightwoods were sitting. It was hard to deny the resemblance when Izzy was so close to them. Maryse Lightwood looked up with a gasp and her wine glass fell to the ground with a clatter. Isabelle backed up as far as Jonathon would allow her to.

"What is this?" Robert, King Lightwood asked. His face very pale.

"Is she your daughter?" Jonathon asked, his voice softer than before. "Only we found her in the corridor and she bears the marks,"

Maryse's eyes widened.

"Isabelle?" She whispered. Both Clary and Izzy froze. Clary felt like she was stuck in time. Izzy backed away, eyes wide with fright and confusion.

"Is it you?" Maryse asked again and Izzy shook her head, stumbling back as if she had been hit.

"What of my sons? Alexander? Maxwell?" Maryse almost sounded desperate. They could all see the years of sorrow reflecting in her eyes, the years of thinking her children were dead.

"I-I can't-I-" Izzy said and turned to flee. Clary wasted no time in going after her.

"Izzy!" she called after her, charging after her. Unfortunately she cannonballed into a waiter, sending food to the ground with a clatter. It would have been comical, but the chaos meant that all eyes were on her. On Izzy's retreating form. She scrambled to her feet and raced after Izzy.

"Izzy wait! Stop!" she called out, chasing Izzy all the way to down the long corridor before Izzy slumped to the ground. She rushed to catch up with her and knelt down before her best friend.

"My mother...the queen she-what-I can't-" Izzy gasped, her voice muffled with a few sobs.

"We'll figure this out, okay?" Clary reassured her. "We'll figure this out."

"Royalty?" Izzy said, astounded. "But what about the others? Does this mean Max can get help?"

"I don't know." Clary replied honestly. "I'm sorry but I think you're just going to have to accept this now. Otherwise you'll be charged with treason. I'm sorry that you came here."

"It's my fault," Izzy amended and dried up her tears. "Alright, I'm a Shadowhunter. I can handle a few doting parents,"

Clary smiled. Classic Izzy.

"Of course you can," she agreed and helped Izzy to stand.


	6. Hunts

_**Hey, thanks to anyone reading this! Your reviews mean everything!**_

"Clary stop behaving like a child!" Jace called out angrily after her, she refused to listen and kept climbing up the tall tree.

"Stop following me!" she yelled back, swinging up another tree branch. She needed some time alone!

"Clary!" He shouted angrily, "Get back down here!"

"No!" She protested and scrambled up higher, suddenly terrified he'd follow her up. "Leave me _alone!_"

"Clary we're going to be _married_! For the Angel's sake come down here and act like an adult!"

"I don't want to be an adult!" She exclaimed, settling herself on the highest branch that could support her weight.

"Evidently!" Jace called up and huffed loudly. "Either you get down here _right now_ or I'm coming up myself and I'm not happy!"

"Well neither am I!" she cried, "If you would just leave me alone-"

"WE ARE GETTING MARRIED!"

Clary grabbed a nearby acorn and threw it down at his head. Her vision was severely obstructed but she smirked smugly when she heard an 'ow!'. Jace growled.

"Fine! I'm leaving! Have it your way!" he exclaimed. She sighed and leant back against the tree trunk. Jace had been _insufferable_ all day. She hadn't even had an opportunity to talk to any of the servants, seeing as Jace was breathing down her neck all the time. He was just, he was just so, so-!

"Boo!" a voice yelled in her ear. She screamed and jumped back by instinct. Her stomach plummeted when she came into contact with thin air and she embraced her inevitable death. A strong hand grabbed her by the wrist, leaving her dangling 40 feet in the air.

"You idiot!" she shrieked, glaring into her fiancés stupid gold eyes. He laughed, although the physical strain was evident on his face.

"You should've seen your face!"

"Well you should see your face after I-" she began to yell, but her scream cut her off as Jace deliberately dropped her slightly. Her heart hammered violently through her chest.

"Let me go!" she yelled, trying to swing herself up onto any branch. He smirked.

"You want me to let go?" He asked, letting go of just one finger. She panicked and grasped onto him again.

"Wait no, I didn't mean! Gah!" she yelled in frustration. Jace laughed and she could see his arm muscles flex as he fought to hold her up.

"Okay, I'll let you up if-"

"Just let me up!" Clary interrupted.

"Oh so you _want _me to drop you?"

"No!" she amended quickly. He smirked.

"I'll let you up if you promise to behave like an adult,"

Clary scowled up at him.

"You're really in no position to say no," Jace reminded her. She huffed, although she panicked when she felt Jace's hold loosen slightly.

"Okay! Okay! I promise I'll behave like an adult!" She said and Jace lifted her back onto the branch. He put his arms on her waist to steady her and she continued to glare at him. He smirked infuriatingly and she knocked his hands away before crossing her arms over her chest.

"I could've died," she told him. He merely smirked.

"I'm always going to be around to catch you, darling," he reminded her.

"See! _This_ is my issue!" she cried, jabbing a figure at his chest. "You can't just leave me alone for _one_ second!"

He grabbed her wrists and knocked her back against the tree stump, she squealed as the tree branch wobbled under their combined weight.

"Clary, we are getting married." He reiterated, shaking her by her shoulders. "What do you expect me to do?"

"Just-" her voice was breathy from the intensity of Jace's gaze. "Just, give me some time to myself. You've been pestering me all day,"

"Okay fine." Jace reluctantly agreed. "Two hours. That's what you get," he told her and hopped off down the tree. She sighed.

* * *

><p>Clary spotted Izzy talking to Simon by the stables and she sprinted towards them. Izzy looked up and smiled. She was dressed in the finest clothes Clary had ever seen her in, it was easy to see how beautiful she was.<p>

"Hey!" she greeted them, hugging Izzy. "How are things? I see you're already dressed like me,"

"Yeah," Izzy grimaced, "It's so tight, how do you cope?"

"Welcome to my life," she said, "Did you talk to your parents?"

"Yeah…they seem nice," Izzy says. She seems uncertain, which was certainly understandable.

"Have you talked through things?"

"Quite a lot actually," Izzy replied, "They want to see Max and Alec. I haven't had a chance to go see them."

"How do you feel about it?"

"I don't know," she replies honestly. "I feel as though I should run to them, be thankful and accept everything. But I just….don't know. It's always just been me, Alec and Max and now…"

"It's a massive change,"

"You bet and everything is so suffocating. Not just the dresses. I can see why you went to town so much, here it's all etiquette and tea parties and that's not me. I'm a Shadowhunter, not a princess,"

"No. You are both. As am I," she said. Izzy nodded.

"But honestly Clary…." She confessed, "I just want to run away and never look back,"

"Me too," Clary agreed, "But I can't. I have Jace breathing down my neck all the time and if I were to leave…Valentine would have my head,"

"Izzy could still leave though," Simon spoke up for the first time. "She could come with me. I don't mind. I'll find another job, we'll go to the country,"  
>"And then what?" Clary questioned, "Now that they know where Izzy is, they're not going to just let her go. Their children have been missing for <em>years."<em>

"That's another thing," Izzy said, "I can't stand all the coddling. I understand that Maryse is my mother and I've never had that, but for goodness sake I can slay a demon with my bare hands!"

Clary laughed.

"You go in there and tell them, the Angel knows I've been trying," she said.

"Oi! Simon stop talking to your girlfriend and actually do some work!" Cyril called from inside the stable. Clary laughed when Simon's face turned bright red. He grumbled and made his way back into the stalls. Both girls followed, Izzy smiling as she entered the grandiose stable. Clary smiled when she saw the mighty black horse from before, it whinnied and nodded its head toward her. She approached it and laughed when it nudged it's nuzzle into her hand.

"Hello gorgeous," she said to it.

"More like hello the devil," Cyril grumbled, moving past her. The stables were cramped and there was so much work to do. Clary noticed that this horse still had a mucky stall and so didn't think twice about helping out.

* * *

><p>"I give you two hours and you choose to roll around in the mud?" Jace asked. She shot up from where she was lying in the <em>peace<em> and _quiet _of the garden. The castle had become too stifling and Izzy had a family meeting to attend. Clary scowled at him and flopped back down on her back, her arm covering her face.

"And I thought you decided to act like an adult," Jace sighed, "You know it really is no wonder I don't leave you on your own."

"I was being a decent human being and helped in the stables," she defended herself, not opening her eyes to face him. Jace was silent.  
>"I'm surprised your father lets you get away with these things," he voiced and she stiffened.<p>

"He has other things to worry about," she explained.

"Your mother then?" he pressed.

"Are you really so ignorant?" She said, her voice offended as she sat up to glare at him. "My mother is ill,"

"Ah," Jace said, seeing his mistake.

"Yeah,"

"We should get to know each other," Jace suggested.

"I'm alright, thanks," she said breezily and stood up. She turned back and began walking to the caste. Jace followed silently behind. She turned him sharply.

"Did Valentine put you up to this?" she asked, hands on her hips. Jace shrugged.  
>"I just want to spend time with my wife,"<p>

"Urgh! We are not going get married!"

Jace raised an eyebrow.

"The ring on your finger says otherwise." He pointed out. She gave him a rather rude gesture and stalked off.

* * *

><p>That rune! What was up with that rune! Clary fumed, staring at the strange symbol she had drawn all over her paper. She didn't recognise it, but she could almost feel the power. She looked to the village which she could see from her desk. Tessa and Jem, they'd know she decided. Or at least, they'd be able to give her advice. She certainly wasn't going to her father or brother, no. She would need to know what the rune could do. She scrawled a quick note and snuck out of her bedroom, hoping to avoid anyone on the way. She was almost to an exit when someone grabbed her arm and whipped her around. The note fluttered to the ground.<p>

"Clary what are you doing?" Jace asked, an eyebrow raised at her.

"Just getting some fresh air…" she said and moved past him, but he tugged her back.

"You've been getting fresh air all day," he reminded her, "I think you're trying to sneak out,"

"No, I was just-"

Jace bent down to pick up the note, she tried to snatch it out of his hands but he pushed her back against the wall and held the note up too high for her to reach.

"Passing love notes are we?" he accused her, folding open the note. He frowned at the rune in confusion. She tried to snatch it back again, but he kept it out of reach.

"Should I be concerned?" he asked.

"No, no!" she replied, too quickly he thought.

"What is this rune then? I have never seen it before,"

"It's just a drawing," she said. He raised an eyebrow.

"Just a drawing? Really? It looks like a rune to me?"

"Well it's not!" she argued, reaching to grab it but he pinned her hand deftly to the wall.

"So, if I drew it-"

"I wouldn't!" she interrupted, he narrowed his eyes. "I mean…you can't just go about drawing random things,"

"I should probably take it to your father…"

"NO!" she whisper shouted, "No, he is busy,"

"But surely he should know if you're drawing strange runes?"

"It's not a rune!"

"Mm," he disagreed and then smirked. "I won't take it to your father….if you agree to my terms,"

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You want a bargain?" she asked, tense at what he might suggest.

"Of sorts, yes," Jace agreed.

"What are your terms then?" she asked impatiently.

"I hear there is an upcoming tournament, I would so love it if you drew my runes on for me."  
>Clary huffed with annoyance, to draw runes for a competitor was like giving them your good luck. It was also a symbol of love for two lovers, so for her to draw them on it would be like a confession…but…if her father saw the note…she had no choice but to agree.<p>

"Fine," she agreed, reluctantly of course.

"I'm not finished," Jace said, smiling triumphantly. "I think you owe me a kiss for the burden of my silence,"

Her eyes flew wide.

"What!? No!" she protested. "I'd rather kiss a demon,"

"I'm sure I could find you one," he replied, "Although I would be careful, you could contract demon pox." He warned gravely, "Anyway, surely you would rather kiss something rather more could looking? The ladies of court would swoon for a chance with such a handsome man as me,"

"Your horse looks better from behind," she remarked.

"I have a very fine horse," Jace responded arrogantly, "and if you have such strong feelings I shall just have to go and give this note to your father. I'm sure he won't mind since he's busy and all…"

She huffed.

"Fine. Fine! You can have your goddamn kiss!" she allowed. Jace smiled peevishly and pushed her back against the stone wall. His hands went to cup her face. Her heart was beating erratically in her chest. He leant forward. She panicked. He was inches apart. She closed her eyes and then…he laughed. Her eyes flew open as he drew back.

"I think I'll save it for later," he explained. She was _angry._

"Hey! You can't just-!" she said and he shrugged.  
>"Sorry, love," he 'apologised', "You'll get your kiss, don't worry. I just thought I'd save it, give you the element of surprise,"<p>

She glared at him with all she had.

"Now, now Clary," he said patronisingly, "I just want to make our first kiss special,"

"You bastard-"

He covered her mouth with his hand.

"I'm too young to hear such vulgar words!" he said, feigning shock. She bit his hand and he drew back with a cry, shaking his hand out. She plucked the note out of his hand and stalked off down the corridor.

"I'll see you at the hunt!" he called out after her. She whipped around to scold him, but he only winked and walked away.

* * *

><p>The stables were a flurry of excitement as every castle dweller got their horses ready. It was time for annual hunt. Clary was just as excited as everyone else and couldn't help the smile as she entered the stables. She skipped over to Wayfarer and stroked his muzzle affectionately he leaned into her touch. A horse kicked its stall, causing her to jump and then laugh. The gentle giant was shaking it's mane to gain her attention.<p>

"Jealous?" She teased the horse, and patted its nose too. She reached over the stall door and grabbed a lump of sugar, which she had discovered the horse loved. She laughed when it tickled as he ate from her hand.

"I have never seen Balios so attached someone else before," his owner said. She turned to see Jace, a light expression on his face as he observed her. For once he wasn't wearing his infuriating smirk.

"Balios is yours?" She asked, fondling with 'Balios's' ears. He neighed in appreciation.

"Yes," Jace answered and unlatched the door. Balios reacted calmly and let Jace begin to saddle him up.

"He's a great horse," she complimented. Jace nodded his head in agreement.

"He is, although it took me months to break him in, he has a wild spirit," he confessed.

"Wayfarer was the same," she said as she began to saddle up her own horse in the next stall over. "Although," she added on with a smirk, "It only took me a few weeks,"

"I think Ballios is slightly bigger than your horse,"  
>"Hey!" she said, offended. "I'm a lot smaller and besides I've known feistier Shetland ponies,"<p>

Jace chuckled and smiled to himself.

"Well the smaller ones tend to be feistier," he agreed, although he wasn't just talking about horses. Clary narrowed her eyes, but didn't say anything else as she finished attaching the reigns. People began to lead their horses outside and so Clary led Wayfarer out, Jace following behind with Ballios. Once outside, Clary swiftly mounted Wayfarer. Jace raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at the other woman who were graciously being helped to mount by their husbands. Clary huffed and turned her attention away from him – towards her father who was sitting astride his mighty, powerful horse at the front of the pack.

"There have been some good strong stag reported in the woods recently!" He announced, people cheered, "Let the hunt begin,"

The men charged off, Clary keeping up with Jace who shot her an appreciative look. She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him. They raced forward for about mile, dodging tree roots and other foliage. The hounds barked to signal a stag and they made charge. Clary was so immersed in the thrill of the hunt that she didn't realise that their numbers had dwindled. The woman had all turned back a few miles ago. She smiled triumphantly to herself, gleeful that she hadn't been turned away as she had too many times before.

They were getting closer and the woods were getting thicker. The hunt picked up the pace and she could spot the stag in the distance. The men all cheered a battle cry. She met eyes with Jonathan who shot her a very disapproving look. They had the stag almost cornered and were going in for the kill when Clary felt her senses tingle. She turned away from the action everyone was so immersed in and looked out into the foreboding depths of the dark, dark forest. She could smell it. Demon. There weren't meant to be any in forest because 'apparently' Jonathon had been doing his job. She looked back to where the other monarchs were busy in the distance, no-one else had sensed it.

She rolled her eyes and slid off Wayfarer's back, grabbing her seraph blade from her waist and snatching a few daggers from the saddle compartment to be safe. She shushed Wayfarer and stepped out tentatively into the woods, senses alert for the imposing danger. She whispered her seraph blade's name and squinted into the dark with the light. The night seemed to be morphing and hissing, her heart sped up as she sensed a lot of danger ahead. This may not be an ordinary demon. She looked back to where the men were jeering and shooting at a stag mere metres away.

"_Stupid Nephilim…."_ The demon she couldn't see hissed. "_All the powerful ones…out together…" _

She gripped the seraph blade tighter in her hand, she heard it approaching and saw a slightly more solid form. Claws and horns merging from the oily fog. She reached for a dagger and threw it with all her might at the creature. It shrieked and reared up.

"_What do have here…? A princessss…."_ It hissed and charged. She didn't have enough time to duck before she was tossed up in the air by a talon, which sheared through a part of her dress. She screamed. With a crash she was sent plummeting to the ground and rolled away in time as a reflex. It was a greater demon for sure. She screamed again in the hopes of getting the other's attention. It's thick, disfigured tail came swinging around and she leapt up into the air, swinging her seraph blade in an arc. She managed to hack a talon off, causing the demon to growl. She rolled to the side as soon as she landed, avoiding its lunging arm.

With a cry, she threw a second dagger at its eye. It hit its target and the demon reeled back. Now angered, it took a swing at her and caught her by the throat she struggled to get out of its grip as it crushed her airways. She swung the seraph blade up and hacked at the arm, the demon hissed and dropped her. She fell to the ground ungracefully, retching and gasping.

The demon came upon her again, the tail swinging towards where she lay defenceless…Just before she would have been hit, someone grabbed her and tossed her to the side. She looked up in a haze and saw Jace standing over her as he attacked the demon. Soon, the air was full of battle as the trained Shadowhunter's overpowered the demon. Her head hurt, badly.

"Clary, Clary!" Jace called her name, shaking her out of her daze. He reached for a stele and hurriedly drew an iratze on the gaping gash in her side. Her head felt fuzzy but then the iratze dispelled the pain and she was brought to her senses. She looked up to find that the demon was gone and all eyes were on her. She quickly stood up, ashamed of making a fool out of herself.

"I'm fine," she said, although her head swam slightly. Valentine sighed but shot her an approving look.

"I think we can all agree my daughter has the makings of a Shadowhunter," he said proudly and she couldn't help but smile. She would still never be able to live down her burning desire to please her father. Her father was strict and sometimes cruel, but he was her father and those years where he trained both her and Jonathon intensely installed a deep set desire to so him proud. The other monarchs all agreed with him and that was the end of that. They all went off in excitement, discussing the thrill of both the hunt and the demon slay. She was thankful and Jace wrapped his arm around her waist, but she shrugged him off. She made her way back to her horse, but stumbled slightly and Jace was at her side again.

Her father stayed behind the group as they mounted to talk to her.

"Whilst that was very brave," he said, "It was also reckless. You do not just go and investigate any old thing in the forests. I thought I'd taught you that already," He scolded her.

"I'm sorry father, I happened to sense the danger whilst you were distracted with the hunt."

"Clarissa you should have alerted the rest of the hunt, not that you should have gone this far with us anyway. I won't punish you, as you acted bravely and fought well. Do not do this again, you are royal and you're position is too precautious to allow for such reckless endeavours. Understand?"

"Yes, father,"

He nodded and led the precession back the castle, a mighty stag in tow. Clary went up to Wayfarer, but Jace stopped her.

"No," he said, "You might have concussion, I'm not allowing you to ride."

She huffed and almost stamped her foot.

"I'm not a child,"

"No," he agreed, "but The Angel knows you act like it," he muttered, "however you _are _my wife,"

She rolled eyes and he led her swiftly over to his horse. She found she was too tired to protest as he lifted her up onto the saddle and slid in behind her. Overcome with fatigue, she didn't think about her quarrels with Jace as she laid back onto his chest and closed her eyes.


	7. Tournaments

_**Hello! So this is too late for Valentine's day but he wanted me to tell you that the slaughter of Downworlders is better than cake and flowers. Lots of love! (Totally did nothing on Valentine's but,whatever, it meant I had time to write this)**_

* * *

><p>Jace looked down and couldn't help but smile at the girl asleep on his chest. Every time Balios walked Clary was nudged back against him. She looked peaceful, the moonlight reflecting against her pale, smooth skin. He had to suppress the urge to kiss her neck, as much as he wanted to, he knew it would be too invasive on her privacy. She was beautiful, there was no denying it. When Stephen told Jace who he would be marrying, he was secretly very pleased since she was rumoured to be and was the most beautiful out of all the other princesses. Although, he hadn't bargained for her feistiness, but he had to admit it was pretty endearing. She wasn't so painfully annoying as all the other girls he had met at court, she wasn't in any way trying to get his attention. In fact, she pushed him away, which was both as challenging as it was entertaining.<p>

"Quite a handful isn't she?" Jonathon drawled, drawing his horse beside them. Jace shifted the reins of Wayfarer, whom he was trailing alongside Balios, stalling his response.

"Yes, I suppose so," he agreed, raising an eyebrow at said girl's brother.

"I wouldn't worry too much," Jonathon told him. "Just give her a little nudge and she'll be as obedient as you like,"

The way her brother talked about her like she was a dog made his skin crawl. Although, it barely surprised him that Jonathon acted this way. Both their fathers were just as bad.

"I _don't_ worry," Jace said, his voice etched with a bit of tension.

"Of course, I bet you have her wrapped around your finger already,"

Jace shrugged.

"Well I wouldn't exactly say that,"

Jonathon raised his eyebrow and his eyes flickered to his sister.

"Yet you don't worry?" he asked incredulously, "If she was to be my fiancé I would want her doing everything I say,"

"Well she's not yours," Jace replied in a clipped tone.

"All I'm saying is you should set her some boundaries," Jonathon responded innocently.

Jace shrugged.

"I trust she will do what is right,"

Jonathon snorted.

"My sister? No chance. She'll be defying you by tomorrow morning, she's too stubborn."

Jace looked down at the girl in his arms and wondered just what her childhood had been like growing up with Jonathon. She held her own well though, as they all saw when she battled the greater demon. When Jace didn't reply, Jonathon threw his hands up.

"Look, all I'm saying is, if she crosses too many lines-put her back in line. And if you're too soft to do it yourself," Jonathon smirked at that, "I'll sort her out."

Jace raised an eyebrow.

"Wouldn't take much," Jonathon remarked as he inched ahead of Jace and forward to his father. Jace shuddered and unconsciously drew Clary closer to his chest. She may be a handful, but she was anything better than her family.

* * *

><p>"Good morning!" A joyful voice greeted Clary. She groaned.<p>

"No, it's not a good morning!" She replied, throwing the covers over her head defiantly. A deep chuckle resonated in the room and her eyes flew wide as she sat up. She could feel her hair tangle itself even more as she glared at the boy leaning against her doorframe – an apple in hand.

"Taking to watching me while I sleep?" she commented. He laughed and bit out of his apple.

"Nope, although watching you drool is entertaining," she threw a pillow at his head, which he managed to dodge swiftly, "I came to wake up sleeping beauty, as I hear you're drawing my runes for me today, in exactly….an hour?"

She made a nose of frustration and flopped back into the bed. When he made no move to leave, she grumbled.

"Are you just going to watch me all day?"

"Yep," Jace said. She rolled her eyes just as Sophie emerged into the room. When her eyes latched onto Jace and then back to where Clary was still immersed in the bed sheets. She tutted, before curtseying Jace.

"I apologise, prince Herondale, but I'm afraid you must leave my mistress' chambers whilst I prepare her for the day,"

Jace smirked and threw his apple up in the air.

"Nah, I'm good," he said. "By all means go ahead, I don't mind watching,"

Clary reached over to her nightstand, her fingers finding a throwing knife and she flung it at Jace. It stuck a metre away, just where she had aimed.

"That's no way to treat your husband!" he gasped. She shrugged,

"You're being perverse," she pointed out, "besides we are not married yet,"

"Ah, but you can't wait-"

"That's it, out!" Sophie commanded, shooing him out the door. He lazily detached himself from the door and slunk out. Sophie almost slammed the door shut after him.

"Run away while you still can," Sophie advised her and Clary laughed.

* * *

><p>The little arena had been set up, Valentine sitting proud in centre-talking to Stephen who was by his side. Clary sat awkwardly on his other side, anticipating when Jace would need her 'attention'. He was so bloody infuriating! Jonathon was practising in the sword fighting ring and Clary smiled at the thought that Jace would have his ass handed to him by her brother. Hell, he had had it handed to him by her already. She smirked at the memory.<p>

"Clarissa," her father said. She looked up, shaking herself out of her thoughts, "it looks like Jonathon wants your attention," he informed her, pointing to where Jace was waving at her. She inwardly sighed and nodded.

"I suppose I must see what he needs," she excused herself, although she already knew.

"Indeed," her father agreed and dismissed her. Jace grinned widely when she was near enough to him and shrugged his shirt off in clear view of _everyone. _He tossed her a stele.

"I hate you," she informed him, although she didn't fully mean it. She didn't seriously hate Jace.

"No you don't," he countered, "You love me,"

She scoffed.

"You just don't know it yet," he finished. "Are you going to ogle me all day or-?"

She rolled her eyes and walked up to him. She felt a little flushed at the sight of his exposed chest, she couldn't deny he had a very nice body indeed. He smirked when he saw her looking and turned so his back was facing her. She set the stele to his back and began drawing. She didn't put much effort into the rune, but she still felt the immense power rush through her fingertips. Once she finished the strength rune, Jace rolled his shoulders in appreciation.

"Wow, princess. You're _good_," he appraised her, turning to face her. She smiled a little.

"Anything else you need Jace?"

"A flexibility rune, stamina, agility…a kiss,"

She scoffed.

"I think not,"

"You owe me one," he told her, stepping closer to her.

"Jace, not _here. In front of everyone," _She hissed.

"Fine. I'll save it for when I win," he replied and turned. "Now, about those runes…?"

She huffed and set to work. Once she was finished, he shrugged his shirt back on and turned to her.

"Woah," he said, "I feel like I can run a mile. How did you _do_ that!?"

"I'm just supremely awesome," she replied deftly.

"That you are sweetheart," he said and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before she could react. She scowled up at him.

"Go back to the stands, the fighting is about to start," he told her. She turned on her heel and walked away. When she made it back to her seat, both her father and King Herondale were looking at her. She flushed and looked down.

"It seems you have grown attached already," Valentine remarked, studying her. She felt herself grow hot with embarrassment. Curse Jace and his bargains!

"It is a good thing," Jace's father remarked, studying his son. "very good, indeed…"

* * *

><p>The tournament was excessively dull, she was hungry, needed the toilet and had the irrepressible urge to draw that stupid rune again. Jace was regretfully a skilful swordsman and so moved swiftly up the competition and was soon battling with only the elite. Clary sighed as she watched two fighters battle it in the ring, she knew exactly how <em>she<em> would win if she was in the fight. But _no_, of course she had to sit and watch. Finally there was called to be a break before the last few swordfights were due to take place. She slipped away into the castle to freshen up before reluctantly making her way down to the viewing stands again, taking a very slow amble on her way down the path.

Suddenly she was grabbed by the arm and pinned against a tree. She kicked out at them, hitting the offender's knees. Sebastian cursed as he was sent back a few yards.

"What do _you_ want!?" Clary yelled, hand reaching to where she _would_ have had her sword, but came in contact with nothing.

"_You_!" he hissed, "I know you did something to Jace,"

Clary frowned in confusion.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Those runes you drew, they were too powerful," he accused her, "_You_ did something. I shouldn't have been defeated by him,"

"Maybe you're just a sore loser?" Clary suggested, stalking past him but he grabbed her by the wrist.

"I know you did something!" he spat, grip painfully tight.

"Well I didn't!" she argued, trying to tug her arm out of his vice like grip. He squeezed harder.

"Well then prove it!" Sebastian growled, pinning back up against the tree.

"How!?" she hissed and moved to stamp on his foot but he anticipated it and moved out the way.

"Draw a rune on me," he growled. She rolled her eyes.

"I don't have any feelings for you Sebastian,"

He slapped her. She hadn't thought he would, but the stinging pain only told her he had. She cradled her face instinctively.

"Let her go," a cold voice stated and they both whipped around to see Jace, a cold fire in his eyes. Sebastian immediately drew away from her, to her immense relief. Sebastian stepped away and Clary almost ran to Jace who drew her to his side protectively. For once she didn't protest.

"Sebastian," Jace acknowledged him coldly, "I'm afraid the fights are about to start again. I believe we have a rematch?"

"We do," Sebastian replied curtly. "and all the best luck," he said, although he didn't sound like he meant it. Clary knew he intended to win the tournament – he wanted to be in King Valentine's favour. For whatever reason he had. Jace smiled tightly back at him and drew Clary away from him and down the path. As soon as they were out of Sebastian's sight he wheeled her around and cradled her face in his hands. His thumb stroked over her sensitive bruise and she winced. Jace looked even angrier.

"What did he want?" he asked, still examining her face excessively.

"It was nothing," she dismissed, trying not to stare directly into his eyes. She worried that if she did she wouldn't be able to look away – his eyes held so much worry for her. Her heart fluttered and she scowled in confusion.

"Is there something wrong?" Jace questioned, thumbs unconsciously smoothing out her frown.

"Nothing," she said and forced a smile.

"Clary…." Jace said in a warning tone, "he shouldn't have hit you, it wasn't nothing,"

Clary shrugged.

"It's nothing new," she admitted. Jace sighed and drew her in for an unexpected hug. She didn't quite know how to react. A horn signalled in the distance and Jace broke away from her.

"The fights are to begin," he announced, "wish me luck?"

"Good luck Jace," she said. His eyes lit up and he smiled broadly.

"I never thought you'd-"

"Shut up," she mumbled and turned away back down the path.

* * *

><p>It was the first fight Clary actually paid attention to and it was coincidentally the winning match. She sat far forward in her seat as Sebastian and Jace rounded each other in the ring. She could tell from Jace's posture that he was angry with Sebastian who was equally as determined to win. With a flash Jace struck first, but Sebastian deflected and parried with his own blows. Soon it was a whirlwind of skill. Sebastian lunged at Jace and sliced through his armour. The crowd, including Clary, gasped. They were fighting dirty and Jace's blood was already spilling. Grievously injuring was not part of the rules.<p>

Jace's face contorted and he swung back, knocking Sebastian back. He used the butt of his sword to jab Sebastian straight in the jaw, fighting just as dirty, Soon it was less skill and more male dominance as they fought to hurt each other as much as possible.

Valentine next to her whispered about how un-valiant they were being. Jace was struck in the nose and Clary gasped as his nose erupted into blood. That must've hurt.

She felt a strange sense of protection over him and wished she could run up to him and draw a healing rune. Jace audibly growled and pounced at Sebastian – this time with a more level head than his opponent. With better skill – and Clary thought smugly, better runes - he had Sebastian floored with a sword under his throat. As soon as Jonathon announced the fight was over and Jace the winner she rushed down to check up on Jace. She heard Stephen chuckle in her wake, but she didn't care as she fled to his tent. Inside was bustling with people sitting Jace down and stripping him of his armour to examine his injuries. Despite his pain, Jace smiled when he saw her enter the tent so flustered – it was adorably endearing. She rushed up to him and grabbed a stele from a nearby table. Everyone let her have some space as she began to draw an iratze on his chest over the gaping wound.

"Can't keep your hands off me?" Jace teased as he watched her. She rolled her eyes.

"No," she corrected, "it's to say thanks. For earlier,"

"It's not because you cared for wellbeing?"

She shrugged.

"Sure I _care_, but only because it wasn't me who got to beat you up,"

"Is this how lovers court these days?" Will Herondale drawled from where he was watching them in the tent. She turned to him in shock, fumbling for the stele with a red face. She had forgotten about Jace's advisor. Jace laughed.

"I'm still more successful than you my friend," he pointed out to his parabatai.

Will shook his head.

"We all know I can make any girl swoon,"

Clary snorted and then covered her mouth with wide eyes. Will smirked and held his hand out to her.

"I'm William Herondale by the way, your betrothed's parabatai and advisor,"

"Erm, hi," Clary greeted him, going to shake his hand but he kissed it instead.

"Easy there, she's mine," Jace said, and Clary couldn't help but blush – the strange butterfly sensation returning. Will chuckled.

"I shall leave you two to your own devices – but don't be too long. They'll want to crown you champion soon,"

Jace waved him off and Clary edged away from Jace as soon as the tent was empty, Feeling all the more intimate – especially seeing as Jace didn't have a shirt on. Jace just watched her. She shifted uncomfortably.

"Was there something you wanted or…?"

He smirked.

"You know what I want."

Her eyes flew wide.

"Oh! That! Well-I-er-I mean-I-er-" she stammered, fumbling for words.

Jace just laughed.

"For fiancé's we sure do act awkward,"

"Well that's because we don't really know each other," Clay pointed out.

"Would you like to get to know me better?" Jace asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"What!? NO!" she screeched, "That is _not_ what I meant,"

Jace laughed again at how flustered she was.

"Okay, but do you still want to get to know me? Because I distinctly remember you begin rather rude last time I asked,"

"That's because you were being an ass!"

"What are you saying about my ass?"

"You-just-stop!" she almost yelled and walked forward jabbing a finger at him. "You are such an annoying asshat! And egotistical! And-!"

She stopped, realising just how close she had gotten to Jace. They stood mere inches apart. Jace smirked when he noticed this and put his arms on her hips to draw her closer.

"And yet I am _your _egotistical asshat and will be _forever_," he said, leaning down just that little bit. She was every bit confused and flustered. She wondered why she didn't just push him away or say something snarky back. Her heart thumped in her chest as she felt him lean closer – so close in fact that she could feel his breath on her face.

"You're so cute when you're flustered," he murmured before pressing his lips against hers. She wasn't sure what to do. Where to put her hands, whether to push him away. Jace kept it soft – not wanting to scare her away. She closed her eyes and leant back into him slightly – as if in a spell. Although the spell was broken by a cough at the door of the tent. She blanched, shooting her eyes open and stepping harshly backwards. Unfortunately that was into a barrel of supplies and she fell back ungracefully. Landing painfully on the floor – surrounded by spilled wheat. She groaned and looked up to see Jace.

"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," she grumbled and ignored his outstretched head to heave herself up.

"Well that was quite spectacular," Will remarked before hurrying Jace out to claim championship over the sword fighting tournament. Clary followed further behind. She freaking let Jace kiss her! Why!? What was wrong with her!?

* * *

><p>Clary crept back towards her chambers, having received a letter from Tessa. She told of how the Downworlders were growing in strength and number. Also that Magnus was alive and well, although she feared that Valentine had plans further slaughter of the Downworlders. Clary agreed. She quickly visited the library, climbing up the second floor to find what she could on a potion Tessa mentioned. She heard voices in the hall and ducked down – she was meant to be in her chambers after the feast and she didn't want to be caught. The door swing open to reveal Stephen and her father. She could hear the conversation from where she was.<p>

"We need to find it!" Valentine declared. "How can be raise an army without it?"

"I agree," Stephen said, "but we don't even know where the cup _is_,"

"We search." Valentine stated.

"Haven't we been already?"

"Mmm."

"Although…" Stephen said, "I think Jocelyn knew where it was,"

"You think?"

"I'm almost certain," he stated, "I bet that warlock put a spell on her to keep her quiet about it,"

"That's sounds very reasonable,"

"Indeed. Have we any picture of the cup? Did Jocelyn ever hint at it?"

Valentine appeared to think for a while.  
>"She painted it once," he said, "but that is no help."<p>

"It's a shame. Think what power we will have once we get it,"

"Exactly," Valentine agreed, "and with Jonathan and Clarissa's union, we shall be able to take full control. Stamp out the Downworlders, even the clave,"

"About your daughter," Stephen drawled, and Clary stiffened, "both our sons seems to have benefited from the extra angel blood. Has she displayed any signs?"

"Regretfully not," Valentine said, "However, I am keeping a close eye on her,"

"Good," Stephen agreed.

They walked out the room and the noise faded. Clary's heart was pumping fast. Gifts? Angel blood? The Cup? She knew her father had something planned, but total domination? That would mean the slaughter of her friends. Her mind almost burned with the image of that same rune. She stared at the image in her mind. What did it mean? What do it mean? The thoughts all jumbled together – mashed up with the sudden torrent of information from the conversation she just overheard. Wake.

By some euphoric miracle she had it. Wake up. That was the rune, but that rune didn't exist? Gifts? Runes? It made sense. Wake up? Why? Then it hit her. Her mother. She had to wake up her mother. Immediately she rushed towards her mother's chambers – not attempting to be quiet through her excitement. She flung open the door and there her mother was, lying there as she always has been. Clary crossed her fingers and took her stele out. With shaking hands she began to draw the rune that had been plaguing her for days.

She waited apprehensively….nothing. She slumped in defeat.

"Clary?"

Her head shot up and there her mother was, eyes open wide. She flung herself at her mother, trying not to cry but a few tears slipping out anyway.

"Mum…" she whispered and drew back, her mother stares at her and puts a hand on her cheek.

"Clary…you're all grown up,"

"Mum, I thought….I thought I'd never see you again. I've been betrothed to Jonathon Herondale and Valentine is looking for the Mortal cup and I need your help, I don't know what to do and-and-I missed you," she gushed, rushing to explain everything.

Jocelyn smiled warmly and her and kissed her on the forehead.

"I've been asleep for a very, very long time, but there is something I need you to know."

Clary nodded, listening intently.

"I know where the cup is," she confessed, "I hid it in the town, in a painting. It's with Tessa and Jem at a place called the Carstairs Inn. It hangs on the wall,"

Clary gasped, she had admired that painting before!

"Clary this is very important, I need you to find it. Valentine _can't_. I had to be asleep because he could never know and it wasn't safe. He was using it for all the wrong reasons…he…your brother, oh it was awful. I'm so sorry I missed all these years with you,"

"It's safe where it is, isn't it?" Clary asked.

"I don't know, Clary. I just need you to be very careful,"

"I will, mum don't worry."

Jocelyn just smiled and tugged Clary back into a hug. Clary revelled in the familiarity of it all, her mum was back.

"Why don't we run?" Clary suggested in a rush, "We could leave all this behind, go to the Downworlders and help them. You won't have to worry about Valentine. They Downworlders have grown a lot in number and we could-"

"Conspiring against me, I see?" a drawl sounded from the doorway.


	8. Discoveries

_**Okay, so a lot of you didn't really like the idea of Valentine being the one to say it. But I'm sorry, I had it already planned! Although any ideas are always appreciated.**_

* * *

><p>"Conspiring against me I see?" a drawl sounded from the doorway. Clary shot up off the bed like a lightening, eyes wide as she saw she was caught red handed. King Valentine stood at the doorway, his eyes angry and his arms crossed over. She gulped. Jocelyn scrambled to stand up but fell ungracefully back onto the bed. Valentine's eyes widened when they latched onto his wife's and his mouth fell open.<p>

"Jocelyn?" he asked, momentarily forgetting what he had overheard in astonishment that she was actually awake. "You're awake…what?...how?"

Clary stared at the floor, trying to be invisible. She could feel the exact moment that her father turned to her in realisation and stepped back, shrinking away.

"Clarissa…." He started warningly and she looked up.

"I, er, when I came in here she was already awake and…"

Jocelyn nodded her head in agreement.

"I just…woke up," she consolidated, "Out of the blue! It was a bit…odd. Like waking up after a really long sleep….well I guess it was a long sleep-" she rambled, head scrambled with awaking thoughts.

The King merely looked to the ceiling, as if praying to the angel. Clary could see his jaw tensing, when he looked down again his expression was steely.

"Do not play games with me," he commanded, "Clarissa, what did you do?"

There was a silence where both eyes were on her. This time Jocelyn said nothing, she was as curious herself. She took a deep breath.

"I…well…"

"Spit it out!"

"I drew a rune," she admitted, fingers fumbling with her dress. She felt like she was five again, caught sneaking food from the kitchens.

"Nonsense," her father dismissed her, "There is no rune for that,"

Clary felt like cowering away and agreeing with him. Instead she stood up straight, gathering up her Shadowhunter courage.

"I'm telling the truth," she told him, voice steady and clear. The King narrowed his eyes.

"But that's not…." He frowned and then his eyes widened, "show me!"

Jocelyn frowned and looked down to where the rune had been drawn on her arm. She gasped and Valentine examined the rune. He smiled. Clary was very confused.

"Have you made other runes before?" he asked. She frowned and shook her head.

"I don't think so…"

"Could you make some more?"

"I don't…"  
>"Val…" Jocelyn said warningly. His eyes snapped to her disapproving ones. "This is not something to exploit-"<p>

Valentine waved her off.

"This is revolutionary, if she can create runes…we could make anything,"

"No," Clary said. He snapped his attention to her, one eyebrow raised challengingly.

"No," she repeated, "I won't draw any runes for you,"

Valentine's kindled rage blew up.

"YOU CAN AND YOU WILL!" he roared, grabbing her by the wrist, "I have not forgotten what you said. I don't take lightly to treason-"

"Val no! That was my fault!" her mother protested. Valentine's attention didn't diverge from Clary.

"You will _not_ run away, you _will _marry Prince Herondale. You _will _make runes for me when I ask of them. What you have is a gift from the Angel and I will _not_ hesitate to use it!" he seethed, his grip getting tighter. Clary struggled against him, angered at being told what to do.

"No!" she yelled back, "You want to _slaughter _people! I will not help you with that!"

Her father growled.

"Downworlders are not real people."

"They have souls-"

"They are half demon Clarissa. Should demons be allowed to live?"  
>"But they are half human-"<p>

"Downworlder are demons. All I want to do is cleanse the land of these pests, they take woman from their beds and do unspeakable things to them. Vampires suck the blood of infants and discard them like rag dolls-"

"Those ones have broken the accords, but you want to slaughter them all! You want to raise an army!" she accused, "With the cup! I heard you, you don't just want to kill innocent Downworlders - you want to take over! You're only worried about the Downworlders because they're the only ones that stand a chance against you-"

He slapped her hard, knocking her back to the floor. He wasted no time in picking her back up again, grabbing her face to force her to look at him.

"What I do is none of your business! I have the entire Herondale Kingdom on my side, even your betrothed is helping me to find the cup. He wants it too. So we'll do as we please and all you need to do is do as you're told!"

Clary scowled back at him.

"It is my business what happens to my friends," she seethed, "Not just Downworlders, the mundanes. The cup doesn't work on everyone, but I know you won't have any problems with that,"

Valentine simply discarded her on the floor.

"I don't care for your petty tantrums," he said, before composing himself and calmly turning to his wife. Clary fumed from where she was on the ground. There was no getting out of his control. And Jace…he said Jace was in on it to. She thought he at least had a scrap of decency but no! He just so happened to be involved in her father's massacre and world domination plans. Just great.

"Jocelyn I missed you dearly," Valentine gushed, embracing his wife. Jocelyn smiled back at him, trying not to cringe away from the psychopath in front of her. He ruined her son. He would kill Luke, he would kill Magnus….the list was endless. He was manipulative.

"Oh I feel awful, it's been so long," she said, keeping her thoughts subdued. He smiled back at her.

"Indeed, but I think we should call a maid. Move you back into my chambers oh there's so many things-"

"And there is time," she reminded him. He nodded.

"Of course. I will go send for someone." He promised and stood up, glancing at his daughter who was conveniently closer to the door – as if in an escape attempt. He sighed and swept out the room, grabbing a hold of his wayward daughter as he went.

* * *

><p>Clary groaned as she lay in her bed, her back ached terribly and she sulked into her pillow. It hurt. It hurt a lot, but it wasn't the first time her father had whipped her back before. Although it still didn't make the pain any less awful. She looked up, eyeing her stele which was by her desk. It was so far away. She couldn't think about moving right now as the lashes were still burning and she knew from experience not to upset them. She wondered when Sophie would arrive. She always helped, although it was an iratze that she really needed, but she would never beg her father or brother to draw one on for her. She groaned again and resigned to laying and waiting. She had probably missed breakfast by now.<p>

"Clary!" a voice called out from the hallway. It wasn't Sophie's. She burrowed her face further into the pillow. "You weren't at breakfast so I thought-" Jace, as she had deduced, stopped mid-sentence. "Clary, what _happened_?" he gasped. She cursed her bad luck.

"What do you think?" she grumbled.

"But…why? I was with you yesterday. Who would do this? Was it Sebastian?" He spat the name like it was poison.

"My father," she corrected.

Jace fumbled for his stele and set it to her back.

"This might hurt…"

"Just get on with it," she grumbled. Jace complied and drew the iratze, it stung and she bit her lip but then the pain subsided and it was bliss. She could feel the gashes stitching themselves up already. She sighed. Jace massaged her shoulders a little to relax her and it worked wonders. That was until Clary realised who it was and that her back was bare to him, the corset laces undone at the back of her dress. She squeaked and grabbed a bed sheet, hugging it to herself and edging away from him. Her face was flush with embarrassment as she looked up at Jace, who was staring at her with concern.

"Clary," he started and she blushed even more, "Why did he whip you?"

She looked down at her hands.

"Shouldn't you know that already," she said, a little spitefully. "After all, you conspire so closely with my father anyway,"

"What are you talking about?"

"You," she said, "You and my father,"

"Well yes I got that bit, but I don't have anything to do with him?"

"Yes you do, don't lie. You want the mortal cup as much as any of them,"

"The what?" he repeated, astonished.

"Don't pretend you don't know,"

"That's because I don't!" Jace argued, "I know as much as you! I don't 'conspire' with your father. I barely even talk to my _own _father,"

"I find that hard to believe,"

"You're so stubborn!" he cried, exasperated.

"That's because I'm right. My father told me himself, you're working with him to get the cup. I bet you don't mind massacring a few Downworlders too,"

"Clary, wait! Slow down! What are you on about? I honestly have no idea what you're getting at me for? I don't want some kind of cup. I'm not working with your father and some of my best friend are Downworlders?"

"Yeah? Name one then,"

"Okay, let's see Mark Blackthorn-Faerie, Maureen – vampire, Raphael – vampire…"

She frowned.  
>"So…you <em>don't <em>won't to kill them?"

"No! Where did you get that from?"

"My father, he said-"

"Okay, wait. Let me just remind you this is the same man who _whipped _you?"

"I was asking for it. He does it when-"

"_No-one_ should be whipping _anyone_. And it seems to me like he's lying."

She shrugged.

"I suppose," she agreed, and sighed "I guess it's not so surprising,"

"Yes," Jace agreed, "he probably did it to deliberately set you against me,"

Clary huffed and Jace crawled up to sit next to her at the headboard. They sat in awkward silence.

"So why did he whip you?" he asked softly, tempted to take her hand.

"I…erm…it's a long story, but I woke my mum up and he got angry I guess,"

"That's it?" Jace asked astonished.

"Well _obviously_ there's more, but I'd rather not share,"

Jace nodded.

"As you wish," he complied. He would not force her to tell him if she did not want to. So long as it wasn't about him, of course.

Sophie chose that moment to come bursting in and blush at the sight of them both in bed, Clary clutching a sheet. Clary paled.

"No, no, no!" she protested, "It's not like that!"

"Her father whipped her!" Jace said, "I drew an iratze."

"Oh thank goodness!" Sophie said, "Wait no! I mean, Clary that's terrible. I'll go run you a hot bath," she amended and scampered out.

Jace laughed and Clary joined in, face completely red from embarrassment.

* * *

><p>"I see you've recovered well," Jonathon observed, eyes light with amusement. Clary glared at him and continued on her way down the path to the stream. Jonathon slunk after her.<p>

"You know I really thought you were past whippings by know, but I suppose you're as rebellious as ever," he continued. She dutifully ignored him. "I'm honestly very surprised you are out of bed,"

He placed a hand on her back and she flinched, her back still sensitive. Jonathon smirked.

"Let me see the wounds - I could help you," he cooed patronisingly, "I bet they hurt _so_ much," he pouted.

She scowled.

"Leave me alone,"

"Is ickle Clare-bear hurting?" he mocked her, "I could kiss them all better for you,"

"Piss off," she muttered. He heard her and his eyes darkened.

"Don't use peasant words, you are above that," he scolded. She rolled her eyes.

"Stop annoying me then!" she retaliated. He chuckled.

"I just wanted to see if you were okay,"

"Yeah, well thanks Jonathon," she bit back.

"You're welcome," he said with a smirk.

"Go and get drunk somewhere, it's all you do anyway,"

He glared.

"My, you're bitter. Are you still ashamed from last night? It is okay little sister, I am here,"

"I don't need you so go away!"

"You needed lover boy though," he jibed, "Who else would draw an iratze for you?"

"Seriously Jonathon," she warned him. "Go away."

"Oh! Is lover boy a touchy subject? Are you in _love_?"

She turned and was about to punch him, but thought better of it. Instead she simply spun on her heel and headed back up to the castle. Jonathon followed her, hoping for more of a rise out of her.

"Aww! Don't worry, sis," he said wrapping an arm around her, "I'm here if you want to discuss your relationship,"

She shrugged him off.

"Jonathon, please can you go and do something worthwhile?"

"Annoying is always worth the while,"

She yanked on his ear, in the one painful place she discovered that could bring him to his knees. He buckled and swore, clutching his ear. She wasted no time in running away from him, crashing into someone on the way. She tumbled towards the ground with an oof, landing on top of the person. She looked down just as Jace laughed underneath her.

"I know I'm irritable, but you didn't have to throw yourself at me,"

"Argh!" she yelled in frustration. "I run away from one annoying guy and crash into the next!"

"Oh, I'm annoying am I?" Jace said, hands above his hand comfortably. She scowled and pushed of him, only for him to yank her back.

"Don't go," he explained, "I rather like this position,"

She growled, face blushing red and scrambled off of him, to which he didn't protest again. She turned to see Jonathon hobbling toward them, hand to his ear. He glared at her, but moved past her without a word. She huffed.

"What's up with him?" Jace asked, propped up on his elbows.

"Eh," she replied, "He was annoying me,"

Jace laughed.

"Yeah, you show him firecracker,"

She deadpanned.

"You annoy me to,"

His eyes flew wide.

"I'm good thanks,"

"No it's okay, I can just-" she said reaching out to his ear, he shrieked and shot off, leaving her laughing in his wake.

* * *

><p>She swung up higher along the training beams, using all of her muscles and welcoming the burn. She needed it. She needed the complete exhaustion to stop all the thoughts scrambling up in her head. There was so much going on: her father's controlling, her mother, her brother being annoying and even Jace! Whilst he did nothing wrong, she was so confused about what she felt for him.<p>

She flipped down off the beam, chest heaving and grabbed a bow and quiver of arrows off at the side. She swiftly loaded the bow and aimed, feeling her muscles tense as she stretched the taunt wire and zing! The arrows shot forward with power into the middle of the target, causing a smile to stretch across her face. She swung up onto a beam above her, pulling herself up and manically firing at each target around the room. She rarely missed dead centre. She could feel the ecstasy as she worked herself harder than she had for what felt like years. Someone whistled appreciatively at the door, as she whipped around to see Jace. He winked up at her.

"Quite impressive I must say," he complimented her and she smiled before flipping off the beam to land in front of him. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Showing off?"

"Yeah and?"

He chuckled and brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face from where it had fallen from her ponytail.

"I must say you look good in gear," he said, admiring how she looked in the slightly more form fitting clothes. She blushed a crimson red and cleared her throat, looking away from him. He smiled and walked over to the weapons table.

"A duel?"

She couldn't help but smirk.

"Are you sure?"

He frowned.

"Of course,"

She grimaced, "I don't know…if you know…"

"What? Are you scared?"

She grinned.

"I don't know if…ah…you're up to it after…you know…"

"Clary you're going to have to speak in proper sentence,"

She shrugged, giving up on her previous jibe.

"Sure, I'll duel you. If you don't mind losing,"

"Clary, I won that tournament. Who says I'll lose?"

"I've heard a few things," she teased, walking over to a different weapons table to find her own sword. She turned back to a flustered Jace.

"What things?" he asked defensively. She waved it off.

"Nothing. I'm sure it's _only _rumours,"

"Clarissa…" he growled warningly. She stuck her tongue out at him childishly. "Don't worry about it, Herondale. Your secrets safe with me,"

He narrowed his eyes.  
>"Well," she added, "Me and the rest of the town, but…"<p>

"Nothing happened," he assured her.  
>"Yeah, <em>sure,<em>" she replied, "That's why you're so defensive,"

"_I'll _show you just how good I am."  
>"Alright then, come at me," she challenged him and he charged first. She swung around him and stuck a leg out to trip him up. She could still remember his pattern of fighting. He attacked her and she parried, although she became too cocky and he managed a jab at her chest with the butt of his sword. The wind was knocked out of her, but she rolled and stood up. He swung at her legs and she jumped, slashing at his strength rune. He narrowed his eyes, she had used the same trick as before. She kept attacking and blocking him until he managed to knock the sword of her hand and floor her. He pinned her to the floor, her arms above her head, smirking proudly to himself. She relaxed, a decoy attempt and Jace smiled.<p>

"Got ya," he teased, before his eyes went to her lips. She smiled and leant forward, he closed his eyes and- she flipped him over, grabbing his sword and holding it under his neck.

"Remember this?" she said, smirking down at him. His eyes widened.

"What!?" he gasped, out of breath.

She frowned.

"What?"

"You just reminded me of someone,"

"I remind you of someone?" she repeated, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice.

"Yeah, a girl. Almost as feisty as you,"

She raised one eyebrow.

"So….you're telling me that I remind you of a girl you met? That's not very tactful,"

"No, that's not what I-"

She laughed and rolled off him.

"It's okay Jace, I know who you're talking about." She said and offered a hand to him, he accepted it and she yanked him up.

"You do?"

"Yeah. I was there. I have to hand it to you, she was a pretty awesome fighter. I heard she's one of the best. Too bad you lost twice to a girl, oh mighty warrior,"

He grumbled.

"You know her,"

"Yeah, I'd say we were pretty close. In fact it's almost like we're twins,"

"What's her name?"

She was caught off guard.

"Er…"

He raised an eyebrow,

"And how come I didn't see you in the crowd? I would've recognised you,"

"Well I wasn't _in _the crowd,"

He frowned in confusion.

"You're not making any sense,"  
>She shrugged.<p>

"It was your fault though," she said, "If you hadn't been such an arrogant ass to Tessa then it wouldn't have happened. Honestly you were asking for it,"

"Wait," Jace said. "No-one heard that bit,"

Her eyes widened.

"No, of course they did!"

"No…" he said frowning, "It was just me, Will and the girl,"

Clary went to put her sword back. Jace stared after her.

"It…It was you wasn't it?" he realised. When she didn't deny it, his eyes widened. "It was you!" he accused her. She couldn't keep in her laughter. "But…but I thought she was a _mundane_!"

"Well maybe you shouldn't be rude next time!"

"But..how? She looked completely-" he cast his mind back to the fight and suddenly they did look very similar: height, attitude and stature were all the same.

"A little disguise rune goes a long way,"

Jace shook his head at her.

"All this time…._All_ this time it was you! You never even told me!"

"Well, excuse me sir! But you didn't exactly tell me we were betrothed either – not until my father announced it!"

"You beat me up!" Jace retaliated, stepping closer to her.

"You broke me wrist!" she argued, getting close enough to poke a finger at his chest.

"I did not!" Jace protested, shaking her by the shoulders.

"Oh yes you did-" she cried and then realised she was standing literally nose to nose with Jace and her voice broke off. Jace's hands dropped from her shoulders to her waist. They both stared at each other, waiting with baited breath for someone to pull away.

"Why does it always take an argument for us to be this intimate?" he whispered into the silence before leaning down closer to her. She drew in a shuddering breath and looked into his eyes. Her heart jolted when she saw the look he had in his actually, really, very beautiful eyes indeed. They were gold? How could someone have gold eyes? Jace put a hand softly under her chin, raising her face to his. She forgot the whole argument; the angry fire in her chest morphing into something else when he leaned down and their lips touched. This kiss was like the first one, but at the same time it wasn't. Jace kissed her softly, but gradually with more force, parting her lips with his. He drew her flush against him and his hands went to her hair. She instinctively brought her hand to the nape of his neck and tugged at the hair there. He groaned against her lips and she couldn't bring herself to feel embarrassed. Jace sped the pace up, the kiss growing more heated and passionate. Clary's heart was thumping erratically in her chest. Soon he broke away and they both panted heavily for air. Jace dropped his head to her neck and she closed her eyes as he placed one kiss to the skin there. She shivered and felt him smile against her skin. He started peppering a trail of kisses down her neck, towards her shoulder.

"Canoodling, I see?" someone interrupted from the doorway and Clary sprang apart from Jace quickly. Jace looked up, annoyance plain on his face. Will stood at the doorway, amusement in his smile.

"Will!" Jace complained, "You have bad timing,"

"Yes, I can see," he replied, winking at Clary, who blushed deeply. Jace reached a hand out to her, which she took, realising it was the first time they had held hands. Their relationship was not like how she had expected to court – usually holding hands came first before whatever…_that _was.

"Why did you have to interrupt?" Jace groaned.

"Your father wishes to speak with you and thought it best to break _that_ up before it progressed to something more. We can't have illegitimate babies before you two marry,"

Clary flushed an even deeper red and Jace rolled his eyes.

"Of course, thank you William. I don't know what I'd do without you," he replied sarcastically.

Will flashed him a white toothed smile.

"Exactly," he agreed, "now hurry! King Stephen doesn't like to be kept waiting!"

Jace grumbled and kissed his fiancé on the cheek before reluctantly following his advisor. Clary left soon after, wondering what on earth had just happened.

_**They're so kawaii! Review! Tell me what ya thought! Any future suggestions? Anything you want to see happen? **_


	9. Escapades

_**Ah! So, apologies if this sucks. I know this is only a very short chapter, but I've had very little time recently to get any writing done. I have exams in May/June so until then, updates will be few and far between. Sorry! **_

"Oh it is such a shame that we will be leaving tonight!" Princess Ann exclaimed, pouring herself some more tea.

"Oh," Clary replied, silently rejoicing that they will be leaving. It would mean a return to relative normalcy and the castle would be far less busy than it had been these past few days.

"Well I wish you all a safe journey," she said. They smiled at her.

"So," Princess Jessamine started, "I hear wedding bells. How is it with the most handsome prince?"

Clary resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"It is…pleasant," she replied.

The ladies all nodded their heads in agreement. Clary had never wanted to slay a demon so much.

"I'm sure it is," Jess responded, eyes suggestive.

"What about you?" Clary asked changing the subject, "Have you found your Prince Charming?"

And that was all it took for her to launch into the dullest story of her crush Clary had ever heard in her entire life and she had heard a lot of them.

Thankfully a knock at the door interrupted Jessamine and all the woman turned to the door. Jace popped his head through, flashing them all a bright smile.

"Good morning ladies," he greeted them. Clary heard Jess sigh lovingly at him. Clary hid her laughter. "Would you mind if I burrowed Clary?" He asked with a dazzling smile. All eyes fell on her and she blushed.

"Oh no we wouldn't mind," Princess Ann replied, smiling at Clary who nodded and stood up, making her way over to Jace. They left the room and Clary turned to face him in the corridor outside.

"What do you want me for?" Clary asked curiously.

"I thought I'd save you from being civil with the ladies, I figured it wasn't your thing," he explained.

"Oh," she replied, "was it that obvious?"

"Probably not," Jace decided, "I think I just know you well enough to see that you really don't enjoy tea parties."

Clary felt an odd sense of affection towards him as he actually took that much notice.

"Well, thanks, you were right."

"I know," Jace smirked. She rolled her eyes.

"Would you like to go for a walk? Around the gardens?" he proposed.

Clary shrugged and he held an arm out for her to take, which she did and then felt oddly at home being this close to him. He led her out towards the gardens and down towards the small lake at the end. It seemed almost natural when he dropped his arm and slipped his hand into hers. She didn't pull away and rather liked it. She felt calm. Something she realised she hadn't felt in a while, neither was it something she thought she'd find with Jace.

"I thought we should just jump straight to the point," Jace said, turning to face her. "I have feelings for you and we are to be married. I wondered whether you felt the same way."

Clary blushed, looking towards the lake instead of him. She was embarrassed to tell her fiancé, a man she was going to marry, how she felt about him.

"I-well-I…guess I feel a certain….affection? Towards you," she replied, uncertain. "I don't really know. It's too confusing,"

"Do you _want_ to like me?" Jace asked. She frowned.

"What do you mean?"

He sighed and looked away from her for the first time.

"I understand." He said.

"Understand _what_?" she asked, even more confused.

"You don't want to like me. You don't want to feel anything for me,"

"Well I never exactly said that-"

"So you do!" he said, hopeful look in his eyes. She sighed.

"I don't want to feel something for a man my father is forcing me to marry," she admitted, feeling ashamed of herself, "he has so much control…I just-I don't want to play into his hands. I want to love and marry someone on my own terms."

"I agree," Jace told her, tracing circles over her hand which was entwined with his. "I never really agreed to marry a girl I had never met either. However, I know you. I like spending time with you. I like _you._"

She stared at him with wide eyes.

"And I'm not going to let our fathers decide what we do and who we marry, but I like you. I wouldn't mind-I mean I would sort of really…love to marry you and when I'm King things will change."

"You can say that, but my father is still young and so is yours. You're not going to be King for a while yet and it still seems like we're letting them win."

"I don't care," Jace announced, "Let them win. As long as I get to lose with you."

She laughed, breaking the romantic bubble they appeared to have made for themselves.

"That was either very romantic or just plain stupid." She said.

"I prefer very romantic," Jace replied, sniffing.

"Whatever you say Jace," she teased, smiling up at him. He rolled his eyes.

"Okay so I like you and you like me," Jace said, letting out a long breath. "That's good to know,"

"I'm not promising you anything though," Clary stated, laying out the terms, "I can't say that I-I can't say that I…love you."  
>"You don't have to," Jace responded. "We are still only courting,"<p>

"And then we will be married." Clary pointed out.

Jace shrugged.

"I'll give you all the time you need,"

Her heart fluttered a little and she looked away from his piercing gaze, trying not to get lost again. She nodded and could feel him smiling, before he drew her in to his side – kissing the top of her head.

* * *

><p>"Clary!" a harsh whisper called out from behind a stone pillar. Clary whirled around, breaking out of her daydream. She met eyes with the green eyes of Jocelyn. She raised an eyebrow in question.<p>

"Mother?" she asked, frowning at her hiding place. Jocelyn gestured for her to join her.

"What's going on?"

"We need to escape. Tonight."

Clary's eyes widened in surprise.

"Run away!" She hissed, eyes wide. "Mum! Are you crazy!?"

"Look Clary, I can't live with him and neither am I leaving you. We need to leave, I know a man who can help us." Jocelyn explained, pleading with her eyes.

"And then what? They'll find us."

"No. No they won't. I have friends, friends who've been working against him for years."

"Mum, that's treason." Clary whispered. Jocelyn only nodded her head gravely.

"We leave by horseback tonight. Be ready." She ordered and left, leaving Clary staring in bewilderment. It was all so sudden. What was she going to do?

* * *

><p>"Well I can't just leave like that. He'll find us and then…no that won't happen. Mum says it's safe." Clary muttered, pacing her room. She was dressed to journey, wearing her gear with a green cloak. "Ah, what do I do!?"<p>

"Where are you going?"

Clary spun around to meet eyes with Jace. His tone held curiosity with a high of threat.

"Nowhere."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I'm coming with you."

"No you are not."

"Yes I am."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"No!"

"Yes!"

Jace smiled triumphantly as Clary slapped a hand over her mouth.

"I'm not letting my fiancé go without me." Jace informed her very seriously. Clary made an exasperated noise and raked a hand down her face.

"Fine! But if you get us killed I'll cut you up into little pieces!"

"You can't, you'd be dead." He pointed out with a smirk.

Clary ignored his remark and glanced around the room nervously biting her lip.

"Hey, stop that." Jace said softly, pulling her teeth away from her lip. She blushed furiously and he smiled kissing her quickly. "It'll be fine"

She snorted.

"You don't even know where we're going."

"I can guess." He said, his eyes darkening. He leaned forward to her ear. "Your mother and you are planning to escape and go to a little cottage and live happily ever after. Then you're marrying me of course."

She rolled her eyes.

"Close enough."

He leant down but she turned away.

"We have to go." She informed him and pushed him out the room.

* * *

><p>"Hurry!" Jocelyn hissed pulling Clary and in turn, Jace down to the stables. Simon had all the horses already saddled up but there were more than they had expected. Isabelle stood there ready to go.<p>

"We can't travel with all of you!" Clary whisper shouted, sending them wide eyes. Isabelle's met her puppy dog eyes. "It's impractical."

"I need to go back to the town! I can't live like this!" Isabelle exclaimed, begging to go with them.

"Come on then," Jocelyn said hurrying out of the stables. "We don't have time to argue, if you want to join us so be it. But I am not responsible for anyone but Clary."

They all nodded and followed. Jace grabbed Clary's hand and swung her up onto Wayfarer before mounting his own horse Balios. Izzy took a horse - as did Simon to everyone's surprise, although, as the Queen had said – there was no time for arguments.

The five spurred off into the night away from Valentine, away from home.


End file.
